Crown of Thorns
by Helena Louvel
Summary: Four girls training to be warriors: protectors, beacons of light in a cruel and harsh world. One impossible circumstance that will alter their fates forever, and push them to their furthest limits. A Dark Lord on his dark throne. A shadow growing in the darkness, and an inescapable truth: not even the brightest souls can resist temptation forever...
1. Prologue Pt I: Petals Scattered

_"A flower unplucked is but left to the falling, and nothing is gained by not gathering roses."  
 **Asking For Roses**  
 **Robert Frost**_

* * *

A light breeze rustled through the branches of a large oak tree and past the sleeping form. The figure shifted from the cold and slowly cracked her eyes open, turning to sleepily assess her surroundings in search of her missing blanket. The sight presented to her was one of a single red rose, the sun's rays dancing on its petals as the tree shielded its surroundings from the harsh light. Birds chirped cheerfully from their nests and the tree's branches swayed gracefully in the wind. Wait. Tree? Birds? Jolting upright, the girl gazed around, taking in more of her environment.

"Yang? Yang!" The girl called out loudly. Nothing but the birds answered her. "Guhh…" She rolled her eyes with a huff and struggled upright, despite the dizziness it brought.

Lush green grass surrounded the area, small flowers pushing up here and there. Rolling hills and fields stretched as far as the eye could see. There were patches of trees in different areas farther away, and purple-tinted mountains leagues beyond that.

Below, at the foot of the hill the girl found herself on, sat a quaint little town, unlike any she'd seen before. For one, the homes she gazed upon seemed to be built into sets of small hills, with colorful round doors and lush gardens out front. Beyond that was a wide river; and a mill with a tall wheel that churned round and round, the wooden mechanisms giving dull thuds; and farmers fields of barley along with other things.

Sliding down the grassy slope, she jogged to a halt inside the fence line of the house below. Cupping her hands to her mouth, the girl hollered again, "Yang?! Weiss?! Blake?!" Once again getting no response, the girl weighed her options. Carrying her compacted weapon at her side, if only for caution's sake, she carefully picked her way through the gardens to a small stone footpath and climbed up to the door.

The girl raised a fist, giving a series of short taps on the beautiful deep green wood. She held her breath as the sound of feet shuffling came from behind the door. There was a creak as it was pulled open to reveal a short man; one with slightly pointed ears, large hairy feet, a mop of grey hair and inquisitive blue eyes.

"Oh, hello." He said somewhat awkwardly, straightening slightly, looking her over.

"U-um…" The girl stammered, staring at the man who was easily a foot shorter than her. She quickly remembered her manners and smiled, "Hi! Sorry, I - I think I'm a bit lost. Could you… tell me where I am?"

"Why, miss, you're in Hobbiton! The Shire?" The man gave her a startled look, and opened the door a little wider. "Please, please, come in! To forget you're in the Shire - must've been through some nasty business. Bilbo Baggins is my name, at your service. I'll put the kettle on, and we'll see if we can't sort this out."

"Uncle?! Who is it?!" An younger sounding voice rang from inside the home. Bilbo glanced over his shoulder and called back,

"We have a guest!" Bilbo turned back to the young, silver-eyed girl, regarding her with a bit more scrutiny. She was dressed in a black blouse and skirt with red trimmings, complete with a red cloak. Even her shoulder-length hair was black with a red tint to it. The older Hobbit smiled kindly, gesturing to the interior, "Come in, Miss…"

"Oh!" The girl stuck out her hand,

"I'm Ruby. Ruby Rose."


	2. Prologue Pt II: Fallen Snowflake

_"Throw it aside in thy weary hour, throw to the ground the fair white flower; Yet, as thy tender years depart, keep that white and innocent heart."  
 **Innocent Child and Snow-White Flower  
** **William Cullen Bryant**_

* * *

The morning was bright and clear, the sun dancing merrily in the sky, beams refracting off smooth white stones without any regard whatsoever for the heads it was scorching below. People wandered too and fro along the bustling streets of the magnificent marble city, congregating at market stands and wells, maneuvering around steel-clad guards, going about their daily business.

"You there! Halt!"

With a grunt, the fleeing figure limped uneasily around a corner and into a side street, the dragging blade of her rapier tinking on the cobblestones beneath her feet. Breath echoing heavily in her ears, her head pounding in tandem with her heart, she spared a glance over her shoulder. She could hear the stomping of armored boots behind her, but they didn't seem to be approaching.

Spotting a nearby well, she stumbled over, her sword falling from her cold fingers. All chatter from those gathered around the area fell silent and stared at the young girl, who moved a stained hand from her side with a small hiss of pain. The slashed fabric of her dress had been smeared deep red, flowering from where a guard's spear had carved a rather lengthy gouge while her Aura was still depleted. Immediately clamping back down on the injury, the girl's wince and subsequent short cry of agony didn't go unnoticed.

"Miss… are you alright?" A lady questioned from a few feet away.

"Y-yes." The girl nodded slowly, attempting to straighten. "Yes, I'm fine." She bent over as best she could and retrieved her weapon. Taking a moment to check the interchangeable Dust supply, she was satisfied to see that nothing was running low. She had enough to defend herself, should the need arise again. Another peek at her injury had the girl rolling her eyes, "Of all the things that could happen, my dress just _has_ to get ruined…"

A wooden bucket of water being plunked down on the stone next to her drew her attention to the woman who had inquired about her condition, and before the girl could say anything, the older lady was prying her fingers from her bloody wound. "Let me see."

"N - no!" The girl pulled away, flustered. Remembering herself, she inhaled deeply, straightened and offered a small, somewhat forced smile as she nodded politely. "Thank you, but I'm alright. It's just a scratch."

But the lady was having none of it, "Miss, that wound is not shallow. Why have you not sought the Healers?" She insisted.

The girl gave a confused huff and pressed a hand to her forehead. "Look, I just… I'm a bit lost at the moment. I appreciate the concern, but I'll be fine." She glanced away, voice quieting with a smidge of both irritation and worry, "Just as soon as I find Ruby…"

The woman sighed and as the girl turned away, it appeared as though she was going to relent, but a gentle yet firm hand taking hold of her pale wrist stopped her before she could move, "Miss, at least allow me to bandage it for you. Infection would not be kind."

The young girl weighed her options. Those soldiers could return at any moment, but the stubborn woman wasn't wrong. Her side was on fire, and every attempt at movement had the flames licking higher. Finally, the girl nodded and hobbled back over to the well where she perched on the stone lip. The woman dipped a cloth in her bucket of water and, after wringing it out, pressed it carefully to the girl's wound, the later struggling to stay still. The woman dabbed at the bloody cut, then washed off the rag and repeated her earlier action. Noting the girl's discomfort, she chuckled, deciding it was likely for the best to divert her attention elsewhere,

"Taeanna is my name. What's yours, child?"

"I'm not a child!" The prim declaration from the young girl as she crossed her arms and tilted her head just-so made the woman smile good naturedly. After a moment, the girl lowered her arms back to the well, fingers curling around the stone. She bowed her head and replied quietly,

"Thank you for helping me, Taeanna. I'm Weiss."


	3. Prologue Pt III: Clear As Ink

_"If I open my eyes to the reality, what will I see? I choose to ignore it and I feel empty. It's not long now until I succumb to the shadows."  
 **Shadows  
** **Unknown**_

* * *

Night had fallen over the peaceful city nestled deep within the mountain valley. The quarter moon shone brightly in the sky, white light reflecting off scattered clouds. The city itself seemed to have made itself from the trees and stone. One couldn't look anywhere without seeing something amazing, some marvel of architecture.

The young girl awoke to a cool breeze and a warm, comfortable feeling. Lazily opening her eyes, she had to blink to clear the lingering fog. Her vision was still blurry, and took its sweet time coming into focus. Almost immediately, she tensed. Glancing around without moving, she saw a simple beach-colored bedside table with a book and a vase filled with beautiful magenta flowers on top; a closet against the wall facing the end of the bed; two high bookshelves stacked with more than she could read in a lifetime; and between the two shelves, an open archway leading out onto a rounded balcony. Outside, there were silver trees, and she could hear the distant sound of a waterfall, accompanied by night animals skittering about.

Her vision sharpened in the darkness, the black nearly as bright as day to her. Cautiously, she swung her legs out from the warmth of the thick white blanket, her bare toes finding the wooden floorboards. Raising a hand to brush her hair back, she stiffened. The simple black strip of fabric - her bow - was missing, bearing her well-kept secret for all to see. Searching somewhat frantically, her fears were alleviated when she spotted it neatly coiled on the bed's side table. Snatching it up, she hurriedly cinched it tight, relaxing once the cover had been returned to its rightful place.

Pushing herself upright, she wandered toward the balcony, taking her sword in hand from where it had been leaning against one of the bookshelves.

"What's going on?" She wondered quietly to herself, staring out over the unfamiliar city. There was a click behind her, and the girl whirled in time to see the door opening, the flickering, warm glow of a candle illuminating most of the room.

 _Run!_ Her instincts screamed, and she was happy to oblige. Flipping backward off the balcony, she slammed the blade of her weapon into the wooden wall a few feet down and hung there, quiet as the shadows about her. Footsteps echoed above, moving out where she had been, then retreated quickly, shouting in a strange language.

The girl let out a slow breath and scrambled up the wall, perching low on the rooftops. She eyed her surroundings, opting to slip soundlessly from building to building in hopes of finding someway out of the city. She had to leave. She had to find her friends - her teammates. There was no telling what could happen to them or where they were, for that matter. This certainly wasn't Vale - she wasn't even certain if she was in Remnant. Perhaps some city in the mountains?

Pausing, the girl pulled a small rectangular device from her pocket and attempted to contact her team. Nothing, save a loud burst of static. Wincing, she quickly put it away, positive she had been heard. Sure enough, the sounds of those undoubtedly searching for her became louder. Something caught her peripheral, and her heightened reflexes swung her blade before her mind could comprehend that she was being attacked. The wooden arrow was cleanly sliced in half, and fell harmlessly to the stone below, though the shot had obviously been intentionally a miss for the mere purpose of warning.

Scrambling to her feet, the girl sprinted off down the roof, leaping over gaps in a mad dash to escape, her black hair trailing behind her.

In her desperation, she miscalculated the distance to a particularly high building and slammed into the stone outcrop. Winded, she tumbled to the ground, her blade clattering nearby. With a groan, she struggled to push herself onto her hands and knees. She looked up, only to be met with the sharp point of an arrow mere inches from her face. Eyes narrowing, she glared at its owner - an unusually tall man with… pointed ears?

The tense silence lasted mere seconds, before someone beyond her line of sight announced in a tone holding far too much amusement for her liking,

"Welcome to Rivendell, Miss Belladonna."


	4. Prologue Pt IV: Blazed And Confused

_"I said, 'It is no great sorrow, that quenched my fiery youth in me; But only little sorrows, beating ceaselessly.'"  
_ ** _Embers  
_** ** _Sarah Teasdale_**

* * *

The deep night was still and silent about the heavy gray stones of the embankment. The waters of the Snowbourn flowed smoothly east, gurgling as they merged with the southern current of the Entwash. The air was heavy with the promise of rain.

The young girl curled up on the shore winced and rolled over with a moan, limp hand trailing in the cool water. Her eyelids fluttered as she struggled to force herself into full awareness, her feet dragging on the rocks as she struggled upright. Running a hand through her golden tresses, she was shocked to find that her locks were coated in flaking, dried blood. Despite this, upon examining her fingers in the dim light, she was somewhat relieved that the wound seemed to have been healed already.

"Hooray for Aura." She muttered, brushing her palms off on her shorts. Deciding on a direction, the young girl hiked up a small hill that gave her an elevated vantage point.

Rolling plains extended as far as the eye could see before her, broken only by identical elevations and great stones pushing up like spires from the coarse grass. The frigid night wind whistled, whipping her hair about. Glancing around, she sighed heavily before cupping her hands to her mouth, "Ugh, hello? _Hello!"_

Her voice echoed across the barren landscape, fading away into the darkness. She turned her gaze upward, scrutinizing the pinpoints of glittering light above her. While the moon gave her little indication - though, the shattered portion of the rocky neighbor had been visible when last she'd looked - of where she was, the stars were clearly different than those usually hovering in the sea of eternity over Vale.

The girl scuffed the dirt beneath her boots, rolling her eyes, "Hello! Rubes?! Blake?! Ice Queen?! _Anybody?!_ " The blonde flopped down on the slope, crossing her arms, "I'm gonna get _so_ bored, _so_ fast."

Giving her wrist a deft jerk, she checked how much ammunition she had left at her disposal, "Aw, that's just great." She counted only eight cartridges in one, five in the other. "Welp, guess I should get moving…" She knew she had at least six more packs in the pouch on her belt, but they wouldn't last forever, and unless she wanted to get eaten by an Ursa or Beowulf pack or Dust-knows what else, she figured it would be best to find shelter. She could work things out, and find her team, from there.

Something rustling by the water had the young girl turning back to where she'd come from. A light was approaching - a burning torch, by the look of it - but whatever was holding it certainly wasn't human. As the girl watched, the flame bobbed and weaved unnaturally, as if someone with a limp were carrying it. Footsteps soon reached her ears, muted by the grass but still distinguishable.

"Hel...lo?" She raised an eyebrow, hands curling into fists in anticipation of a fight, adrenaline beginning to pump steadily through her veins. "Ruby?"

Then the pack of creatures - and they were just that - came into clear view.

"Nope - again."

Their skins were dark as a corpse and filthy. They were squat, flat-nosed and bow-legged, with wide mouths and slant eyes, long arms and fangs. Even at a distance, their blood smelled so bad that regular people would have fainted at the first whiff. The young girl's nose crinkled in distaste. They were easily two or three feet shorter than her, and despite the sharp, jagged blades they carried in hand, the young girl straightened and grinned confidently.

"Whoo, you guys are _ugly_! Gene pool was not kind t' you."

"The lil' maggot's mocking us!" One of them whinned in a dry, gravelly tone.

"Shut up!" Another grumbled in reply.

"I'm 'ungry! Can we just kill it already?!" Yet another hissed. The girl's smile became firm and more of a grimace as she realized a fight was inevitable. With a mechanized shifting noise, the bright yellow gauntlets on her wrists extended to cover her entire forearm. She cocked the DRSGs by throwing an arm outward, the momentum clicking and locking the weapon into place. The creatures back off a bit, startled, but it quickly wore off and they ran at her, waving their swords.

But the girl was gone.

Surprised, the beasts looked about wildly, discovering too late that their prey had jumped. How, they couldn't comprehend. The only ones they'd ever known to be that agile were Elves, and this girl certainly _wasn't_ an Elf.

Using the velocity of her descent to her advantage, the girl slammed a gauntlet into the ground. The creatures were knocked back by the force of the blow as the strange girl rose, chuckling good-naturedly,

"You wouldn't happened to have seen a girl in a red hood around here, would you? 'bout ye high." The girl gestured to slightly below her chin. "Oh! Or a girl in white, real prim looking?" Screeching, one of the creatures charged. An ear-splitting explosion rocked the area, a flash of orange and red lighting up the sky. The attacker collapsed, a gaping hole clean through its skull. "Sheesh, a simple 'no' would've worked."

For the blonde, the ensuing fight was all too easy. Pieces of the assailants were scattered about the blood-soaked terrain as she cut through them like butter, being careful to conserve her ammunition.

The only injury she received was from a rusty blade as she was attacked from behind. It sliced into her arm, breaking through her still depleted Aura, and though she managed to turn before her entire limb was lopped off, she cried out in pain. Stumbling back, the girl clutched at the wound in slight disbelief, which quickly morphed into blind rage.

With an angry holler, her Semblance flared around her, and she swung a hard right hook. The creature's head was knocked clean off, and went sailing through the air, disappearing from view.

Unknown to her, a singular beast scuttled fearfully off over the hills, heading northwest.

As silence fell once again, the young girl observed the damage around her. Those creatures, she realized, hadn't had Auras. They hadn't felt like the Grimm, either. They hadn't felt like… well, _anything_. She wasn't sure why, but that frightened her. It meant that she certainly wasn't in Remnant anymore.

"Ruby?!" She yelled with renewed desperation as she attempted to calm her breathing, "Ruby!" She had to find someone - _anyone_. Preferably human. There had to be _something_ out here. The girl spared a glance at the wound on her arm. Sure enough, her Aura had already healed the worst of it - all that remained now was a lengthy scrape. Despite this, every muscle in her body screamed for rest. She wasn't sure if she would be able to fight again - not without sleep, first.

"Who goes there?!"

The girl whipped her head up, raising her arms on instinct into a fighting stance. A man on horseback was peering at her through the darkness, a lantern's glow glinting off the tempered steel of a helmet. Recognizing the difference between this person and those she'd just finished fighting, the girl lowered her arms, offering a halfhearted smirk,

"Sup?"


	5. Chapter 1: Everyday Life

"Ruby!"

Glancing away from the kitchen cabinets as she was called for, the young Huntress smiled and hollered back, "Coming, Frodo!" Then, hooking the handle of a wicker basket into the crook of her elbow, she headed toward the entry hall.

Even after four months of residing with Bilbo and Frodo Baggins, Ruby still found herself staring around in awe at every marvelous aspect of Bag End. Normally, something as trivial as a house wouldn't have impressed her, but she was enamoured by the place. The masterfully carved wood structures; the little round windows that gave a perfect view of the garden and the river beyond; the rooms that all seemed to be on the left side, not to mention the same floor. And, of course, the sitting room, with its stacks of old parchment, books and maps, and wider windows overlooking Hobbiton. She passed through there most often, and found herself adopting - or, perhaps, rediscovering - a Blake-like love of reading. Many a night saw the leader of Team RWBY seated beside the fender, a stack of books surrounding her in a miniature fortress, a shimmer of pure wonder in her silver gaze.

Still, for all she'd grown to love the peaceful rolling hills of the Shire, the constant pang of misery at the continued unknown nature of her team's whereabouts hadn't diminished. If anything, it had increased a thousand fold. Bilbo, however, reassured her constantly. 'You needn't worry, my girl,' he'd say. 'I'm sure they're perfectly safe! They'll turn up - just you wait and see.'

So, wait she did.

Her bare feet brushing the sun-warmed stones, Ruby shut the door behind her and sauntered down to where Frodo waited, leaning casually against the wooden fence, "Hi Sam!" She called exuberantly, waving to the Baggins' gardener, who was hard at work uprooting some nasty pigweed that had recently taken to choking out the flowers.

The blonde looked up from his work, hazel-blue eyes brightening as he smiled at her and returned the gesture, "Good afternoon t' you, Miss Rose. Off t' meet Mr. Gandalf?" Ruby's excited nod had Sam chuckling as he returned to his task. He'd grown fond of the young girl's seemingly ceaseless enthusiasm for even the smallest of things - not to mention how contagious her sunny mood was. She seemed to illuminate the whole Shire with every step.

"Right then. Shall we be off, _Miss_ Rose?" Frodo tossed her way in a playful tone, raising an eyebrow as she unlocked the gate and came to stand at his side.

"We shall, _Mister_ Baggins," Ruby gave a chortling laugh, taking the basket in both hands, and the pair started off down Bagshot Row. They were an unlikely and rather odd duo - the nephew of the illustrious Bilbo Baggins, and the hyperactive human girl who'd appeared from thin air. Ruby stood almost exactly a foot and two inches taller than Frodo, let alone most Hobbits. She'd been uncomfortable with it at first, awkward and unsociable. But, gradually, the Hobbits had come to accept her wild ways, though some did so begrudgingly.

'She's one of the big folk,' one had stated rudely upon a trip to the market, 'And they don't belong in these parts.'

Ruby had often wondered how the rest of her teammates, if they had fallen into the same world as her, were fairing, wherever they might be. That train of thought almost always ended with her giggling at the prospect of Yang trying to settle into life in the Shire as she had.

"You're awful quiet today, Ruby. Is there something on your mind?" Frodo questioned as they rounded the bend, following the road that lead down toward the town.

"Oh - no," Ruby shook her head, though her smile was somewhat forced, "I mean, nothing more than usual."

"Quite a lot, then," Frodo chuckled, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his suspenders.

"Just..." For a moment, she considered confessing her worries that she would never find her friends again, something that had been especially pressing on her mind since that morning. But then she recalled Bilbo's words, told herself she was being silly, and opted instead for, "Thinking about the party tonight. It's gonna be awesome! Er, how old did you say he's gonna be again?"

"One hundred and eleven," Frodo replied with a smirk, "And, if I recall correctly, you said that was 'wicked old'."

"But it is!" Ruby insisted, "A hundred eleven?! That's, like..." She struggled to come up with a good analogy, but found herself drawing a blank. No one in Remnant ever lived that long. _Well, maybe Professor Ozpin..._ Her smile widened at the ludicrous thought.

Content that he'd gotten her mind off whatever had been bothering her, Frodo began whistling to himself as they lapsed into silence. The young Hobbit was excited to introduce Gandalf - the grey wizard, and a dear old friend of his Uncle's - to his new companion, though more than a little concerned he might press her for answers about her arrival in their world. Neither he nor Bilbo had believed Ruby when she first insisted she wasn't from Middle-earth, although they'd quickly come around when she demonstrated her... abilities.

As if on cue, Frodo was broken from his thoughts as Ruby dashed ahead, leaving a trail of blood red flower petals in her wake. When he raced to catch up, wondering what could possibly have caught her eye, he found her grasping the fence, peering out over the fields, the position offering a full view of the Party Tree and surrounding green. Her silver eyes sparkled with wonder as she watched strings of colorful flags being hung high, tents being pitched, and a grand yellow banner hoisted into position.

"Come on, Ruby," Frodo put an arm around her shoulders, shaking her from her reverie. She cast him a toothy grin and allowed herself to be veered back onto the dirt track, "We're going to be late. And he doesn't approve of being late."

"What's he like? Gandalf?" Ruby asked, tilting her head slightly, "Bilbo's told me about him a little, but he sounds like he's being dramatic. I mean... magic?" She raised an eyebrow in disbelief. There was no such thing, in her experience.

"Oh, he isn't exaggerating at all, Ruby! Although I've never seen him use his magic proper, his fireworks are magnificent - the best you'll ever see. Sam appreciates them especially," he explained, recalling their splendor as if he had just seen them the previous day. "They shoot up right over the trees, and explode in showers of colors you didn't even know existed."

Ruby giggled at his description. She'd never seen fireworks before. The way he talked about them made them sound like the most beautiful thing in the world, and she couldn't help but imagine intricate patterns dancing amongst a sea of stars, vibrant sparks of light raining from the darkened sky. It felt like something from one of the stories Yang had once read to her - fantastical and distant, yet somehow so real. _At least,_ she thought, a strange relief flooding her mind, _there aren't any Grimm here._ She didn't know what danger this world held, but she was fairly certain it couldn't be worse than a Deathstalker or Nevermore. Besides, with Crescent Rose in hand, she was confident in her abilities, even on her own.

Soon, the grove and Party Tree were behind the pair, strolling past the Water with a gentle Westerly breeze tousling their hair, and they were turning a bend toward the Garden, and beyond, East Farthing Wood. Almost subconsciously, Ruby lowered her gaze as they passed small gatherings of chatting Hobbits, who quieted and watched them with judging eyes as they walked by. This didn't escape Frodo's notice, who cast a sour glance over his shoulder.

"Pay them no mind, Ruby," he reassured with a smile, one she had a little trouble returning. _Is this what Blake deals with?_ she wondered dejectedly, only sinking further when she realized that her teammate had probably had it much worse her entire life. Then, as quickly as her doubt had come, a thought occurred. If Blake could get by, and keep her head up, so could she. It would do her no good to sulk.

Ruby perked up immediately, squaring her shoulders and waving to the women picking vegetables and barley in the Garden with a bright smile and a chipper, "Good afternoon!" that was pleasantly returned.

The soft grass tickled her soles as she and Frodo stepped off the path, approaching the towering treeline. Wandering through the undergrowth, shaded from the sun save for areas where the light trickled through the foliage, they scaled a small hill to a spot elevated from the main road, but still within earshot. With a contented sigh, Frodo settled comfortably beneath a young maple and opened the book he had brought, the spine crackling. Ruby swept her long skirt beneath her and sat against the rough bark of a tree opposite him, snagging a strawberry from within her basket before following suite.

Ruby's wasn't a book, however - rather, a journal she'd taken to keeping, detailing her time in the Middle-earth and anything she recalled from home. There were pages filled with stories of her year at Beacon, and her times at Signal; even the odd fairytale she'd committed to memory. She had noted that Ao, one of her old friends from Signal, would've adored the tranquility of the Shire.

Flipping to a fresh page, Ruby took up her quill and dipped it in the well of black ink she'd brought. In measured, delicate strokes, and with a patience formerly unknown to her, she began to write of her excitement for the party that evening. It was to be a grand affair - half the Shire had been invited, and those who hadn't were turning up anyways. There was going to be dancing, and more food than could feed all the students at Beacon. The one thing Ruby wasn't too pleased about was the concept of drinking. Although Bilbo had made mention of it being one of the many indulgences of Hobbits, it reminded her of her Uncle Qrow's habit of incessant drunkenness. That was something she had never enjoyed, though, considering it, his tales weren't nearly as lavish when he was sober.

Popping another piece of sweet fruit in her mouth, Ruby gave a drawn out exhale. It was times like this she wished she had her headphones with her, or even her scroll - something beyond the chirping of birds that lulled her into a drowsy state. While she didn't particularly mind it, life here was borderline boring at best. She missed Beacon sorely. She longed for the company of her friends, the daily lightning-speed lectures, the combat training. _Okay, maybe not with Goodwitch though,_ she snickered, then shifted and went back to writing.

She wasn't certain how long the two of them sat in the quiet of the forest, warmth radiating from their surroundings, but by the time Ruby raised her head, the shadows around them had elongated and Frodo was at least six chapters into his book. Craning her neck to alleviate the soreness that had taken hold, she set her writing utensils aside and stood, brushing off her outfit, which was comprised of a soft red blouse with black laces, and a white skirt - clothes that she'd bought, upon Bilbo's insistence, from the markets a week or so after her arrival.

As she lowered her arms, a sound reached her ears. Straining to hear clearly, she realized it was a low voice, singing a tune of some sort, and accompanied by the clacking of wooden wheels. In that instant, Frodo heard it as well, and he peered about before leaping to his feet. A smile of pure joy appeared on his expression, and he grabbed Ruby's hand.

She found herself with barely enough of a second to grab her basket before she was stumbling as he set off running. Momentarily flailing, she managed to find her footing and keep pace, raising a hand to keep her straw hat from blowing away as her cape billowed behind her. Bounding over the uneven hill side, the two descended toward the road. Frodo came to a halt where the path had been carved out, forming a small, alyssum-covered rise on either side, his arms crossed in a seemingly unimpressed manner,

"You're late," he announced, his tone both amused and condescending. The man he spoke to sat on a cart, the reigns in hand, wearing a simple grey robe and with a pointed wide-brimmed hat of the same color that cast a shadow over his face. Slowly, he looked up at the pair, revealing a wizened face framed by lengthy hair and beard. He stared at Frodo, obviously not appreciating the comment,

"A wizard is never late, Frodo Baggins. Nor is he early. He arrives _precisely_ when he means to."


	6. Chapter 2: Fairy Stories

Ruby decided, rather quickly, that Gandalf the Grey was an odd man.

While his familiarity with Frodo and the latter's relaxed nature around him effectively dampened most of Ruby's usual unsociable anxiety, there was something about him that simply unsettled her. Perhaps this was because the wizened wizard exuded an energy more akin to Aura than anyone else she'd yet come across in Middle-earth. Or perhaps he reminded her a little too much of Professor Ozpin.

Either way, her mild discomfort was hardly noticeable as she grasped Frodo's hand to steady herself and leapt into the wagon. Sweeping her skirt and cape under her knees, she perched comfortably on the wooden seat, arm encircling the post beside her. Trusting people was one thing, but a rickety cart that appeared about as ancient as the wizard himself was another matter entirely. However, as the reins were given a sharp jerk and they started off back toward town, Ruby realized she had little to fear and, gradually, her hold loosened.

"I see you've made yourself a friend, my dear boy," Gandalf began, peering over at her from beneath the brim of his tall hat. His inquisitive yet at the same time scrutinizing gaze had Ruby wishing she could slink away quietly, but with the confines of the cart and Frodo seated next to her, there was nowhere to go. She was certain her nervous disposition was foolish, though was equally aware that that didn't help her predicament in the slightest.

"Gandalf, this is Ruby Rose," Frodo cast her a broad grin as he cheerfully announced her name, but it faded slightly when he caught her apparent aversion.

"Indeed," the man smiled pleasantly, seeming strangely satisfied, as if she was one he had been expecting to meet. That's the thing about wizards, you see - you never know what they know, and they always know an awful lot; more than most, in fact. Of course, this did nothing but confuse poor Ruby, who silently jostled with the movements of the wagon, "A pleasure, Miss Rose. Though, I must ask how a young human girl such as yourself came to reside in the Shire."

Frodo swiveled to face Gandalf almost completely, though not without first giving Ruby a questioning look, seeking her approval in order to offer an explanation. Receiving a contented nod and encouraging smile in return, he began, "Ruby is… not of Middle-earth, Gandalf. She comes from another world, called Remnant. She's told Bilbo and I the most amazing stories…"

As Frodo carried on, Gandalf's thick brows crept steadily higher, until Ruby was certain they were attempting to escape his face altogether. However, no move was made to interrupt the Hobbit. He did not appear skeptical, which Ruby thought to be the strangest thing yet. One would think he'd believe her deranged, or at least not in the right state of mind, though he remained distinctly unfazed.

Rude as it may have been, she found herself staring at him, silver eyes wide with curiosity and no small degree of confusion. As one with Aura, she could sense, in a manner of speaking, the energy given off by others. In Remnant, every living being radiated Aura on a certain level, and thus it was commonplace and comforting in its familiarity. This is what allowed her, and her fellow Huntsmen and Huntresses, to detect the presence of the creatures of Grimm. The absence of such energy in Middle-earth had been jarring at first, and taken some time to grow accustomed to, as there was simply nothing. Though now, seated close to one who had been described to her as a 'wizard', Ruby was intrigued by what emanated from him. It was not Aura, but something almost… archaic.

 _Deep within the forests of Remnant, beside a great and mighty river, stood the small, fragile home of a cold, frail man. A lone wizard…_ Ruby shook her head at the remembered fairytale Yang had once told her. The comparison was ludicrous - surely there was no such thing as 'magic'. That was reserved for embellished tales and children's stories. Still, Ruby couldn't refute the similarity, and a bright smile tugged the corners of her mouth upward.

She was rather quickly brought back to the present, however, when Frodo's elbow nudged her side insistently. Giving a rapid series of blinks, she whipped 'round to meet her friend's concerned gaze,

"Are you alright, Ruby?" he inquired gingerly, as if tiptoeing about a particularly unpleasant topic. He was well aware that she sometimes got into one of her moods - be it she was thinking of home, or her sister and friends, or any number of things done or said. His worry was alleviated when the distant look in her eyes faded, and her previously chipper nature returned.

"Oh, yeah! I'm fine. All good here," she extended an arm towards him, locking her elbow as she stuck her thumb towards the sky in an emphasis of her affirmation. Dropping her hand idly back into her lap, she absentmindedly picked at a piece of lint sticking to her skirts.

Frodo opened his mouth to voice a protest, as she was currently leaning toward the contrary of her statement, but Gandalf spoke before he had the chance to utter a single word, "Interesting indeed, my boy. Tell me, Miss Rose. By what happy circumstance did you find yourself in our world in the first place?"

"I, uh… well, I… umm…" Caught off guard by the question suddenly directed her way, Ruby mused uncertainly to herself for a full quarter minute, occasionally giving a nervous chuckle.

"I don't know," she finally decided with a slight shake of her head, raven tresses swinging with the motion. She wasn't inclined to explain herself further, so she lapsed back into a steady silence, turning aside to gaze at the passing barley fields. Both the wizard and Frodo seemed to accept this, and the Hobbit quickly struck up the conversation anew,

"What news of the outside world, Gandalf? Tell me everything!"

"What, everything? Far too eager and curious for a Hobbit. Most unnatural," said Gandalf. The pair shared a smile, though the joking nature of the condescending tone was lost on Ruby. In fact, it had her leaning forward, frown deep set and creased into her youthful features.

"Since when is it a bad thing to be curious?"

Ruby never got an answer to her question, for it simply made Frodo laugh merrily, the wizard in their company chuckling as well with a peculiar twinkle in his eye. Feeling rather put out, Ruby pouted, folding her arms tightly over her chest, not fond of being the butt of some unknown joke.

Her displeasure did not last long, however. "Well, what can I tell you? Life in the wide world goes on much as if it has past age. Full of its own comings and goings, scarcely even aware of the existence of Hobbits…" Gandalf paused to observe the peaceful scene laid out before him, a warm, fond smile lightening his wizened face, "for which I am very thankful."

The cart rattled over the stone bridge, crossing the Water before the road widened as they approached the bustling market. Those gathered looked up, exclaiming in wonder and excitement as the cart bearing Gandalf, Frodo and Ruby rolled past the Green Dragon Inn. The young girl wondered for a moment what was so interesting, and then she remembered that Gandalf had not been in the Shire in years.

"Ruby! Ruby Rose!"

The voice that arose from the sea of rounded faces and clouds of pipe weed smoke was shrill and firm, and so unexpected that the red-clad reaper jumped a good foot off the wooden bench. A Hobbit was suddenly hurrying along beside the wagon, crows feet crinkling as she narrowed her gaze at the two seated beside her. Glower fading, she smiled brightly at Ruby and took hold of her wrist,

"Ruby, dear, Farmer Hayward is having some trouble unloading his crop for the party tonight. He's been asking after you all morning. Won't you come help?"

"Oh! Yeah, sure!" Ruby pushed herself upright, again taking hold of the cart's post to keep herself steady. At the last second, she remembered herself and turned, looking with sheepish innocence to Gandalf, "U-um… excuse me. It was nice to meet you."

Spotting the woman at last, Gandalf nodded and offered a bright smile, "Ah. Likewise, Miss Rose."

Ruby hopped off the cart, the jolt as she landed causing her no trouble, and immediately turned to wave exaggeratedly at the retreating form of her friend,

"I- uuuh. I'll see ya later Frodo!" She called, cupping a hand about the side of her mouth in an attempt to make the sound travel farther. She received a small return of the gesture. Satisfied, she turned to the Hobbit woman and grinned.

Chuckling to himself, Frodo reassumed his forward-facing position, gazing past the shambling old pony toward the party field. Expecting Gandalf to ask about all the commotion, he looked up at the wizard. The words on his tongue died upon seeing his worried expression, bidding him to pause a moment before a new question took place of what he had been about to say,

"Gandalf? What is it?"

Apparently shaken out of his trance, the old man blinked twice and gave a smile that Frodo could easily tell was forced, "It's nothing, my boy," he reassured, subtly tightening his hold on the reins in hand to which he gave an encouraging flick as the steed began to slow.

There was, indeed, something bothering the wise wizard. It was not Ruby specifically, nor the circumstances under which the young girl had found herself. Rather, there was simply an unsettling air about her - something Gandalf could not quite put his finger on. He was certain it was folly; she was, at any rate, a child, and one at that that stirred in him a great deal of protectiveness. It was evident that Frodo felt the same. However, he could not shake the feeling that something else was at work here. Something that even Ruby may not yet have been aware of.

After all, how often does one come across a being with silver eyes?


	7. Chapter 3: Doubt

Bend. Heave. Stagger. Drop.

If she had to do it one more time, Ruby swore she was going to go insane. Farmer Hayward's cart had been stacked with crates, eight long in either direction and three high, vegetables overflowing from their wooden confines. Surely, this was excessive. The entirety of Beacon couldn't have eaten so much in a single night. Though, never having been to a party outside the Academy's end-of-semester dance, and given the habits of those she had surrounded herself with, it perhaps wasn't as big of a stretch as she liked to think.

Mercifully, the elder Hobbit wiped his brow and called, "That's the last of 'em!" Ruby laced her fingers together and stretched until her shoulders cracked, releasing the built up tension. She lowered her arms with a satisfied groan before raising a hand to shield her face from the waning sunlight. Farmer Hayward smiled down at her from atop the wagon, "Thank you kindly, Miss Rose. Would've taken all afternoon had Willow not sought after you."

"Any time," Ruby beamed cheerfully, despite the residual ache in her muscles. It had, in fact, taken most of the afternoon to unload the cart, seeing as she had been called on to aid with several other tasks as well. Not that she particularly minded - it was nice to help, to feel useful, to do something. It had successfully kept her mind off worrying over her teammates, which she was grateful for.

A warm gust of wind swept across the Party Field, blowing her hair into her field of vision. Brushing it from her eyes and lips with an irritated huff, she peered around the area. Vibrant strips of flag banners had been drawn between every pole, whipping about in the summer breeze; worn fabric stretched to create tents which housed all sorts of wonderful things to be shared that evening. Dozens of casks of ale were being rolled across the grass, and delicious smells wafted from the other side of the sun-strewn plain where members of several different households were busy preparing a feast.

Ruby started back toward the road, waving to Farmer Hayward as she left. While she didn't have much in the way of clothing, she figured wearing something a bit fancier for the celebrations would be appreciated. In which case, quickly returning to Bag End would be in order. The thought inexplicably made her giggle. At Beacon, she wouldn't have bothered to look nice at a social gathering. It had taken Yang's constant poking for her to even wear a dress at the dance, and yet, here she was - deciding to do so on her own.

A saddened frown tugged her lips downward. She lowered her gaze to the emerald grass below her shuffling feet, skirts swishing with her paces. She missed her big sister dearly. She longed for Yang to sweep her up in a crushing hug and tell her everything was going to be fine. She felt, with every passing moment, the absence. The sense that she was no longer whole. The worst thing for her to think about was that, perhaps, her teammates hadn't even wound up in Middle-earth. That she was truly, absolutely, inescapably alone. It twisted a knot into her stomach like the agonizing jerk of a knife, and made her knees weak.

Feeling something warm trickle down her cheek, Ruby stopped. With a frustrated noise of exasperation, she pressed her palm to the wetness and wiped it aside. Why was she crying? Why wasn't she doing something - anything - to find them, instead of sulking?

 _Because you're useless without them_ , a whisper of malignance echoed from the recesses of her mind. It was forceful; sudden, and taunting. Where had she gotten that idea from?

Giving herself a shake, she dabbed her eyes on her sleeve and took a deep breath. Thinking like that wouldn't do her any good. She just had to press on, and hold to her belief that she would find them, or them her. They were here somewhere; it was indescribable, but she knew it. She would get an opportunity to go looking eventually. For now, she could stay positive; not let her doubts, which she carefully pushed back into the corner of her mind wherein they belonged, dampen her optimism, and enjoy the night ahead.

Worries abated for the time being, Ruby straightened and began to hum merrily to herself; a soft, contented tune that had naught to do with anything. Gentle greenery melted away to compact, dusty dirt, and she crossed Hill Lane. Spinning on her heel with a grin, the sun's golden rays warming the cotton of the blouse on her back, she gazed fondly at the field. From her slightly elevated position, she could see everything. Farmer Hayward maneuvering his cart into a less bothersome place. Willow gesturing angrily at two men hoisting a pole upright. A group of children playing hide-and-seek around the Party Tree. It all seemed so perfect. There was no danger, no threat, no tension.

Ruby found herself, not for the first time, envious. In Remnant, it was a stroke of pure luck if you could wander the Forest of Forever Fall for a day without seeing signs of Grimm. Even then, you had to be constantly on guard, weapon at hand. Ready to fight for your life at a moment's notice. It wasn't like that here. She wondered; was it selfish of her to want to stay? Surely not…

Bunching her skirts in hand, she settled down on the incline behind her. Laying amid the cool blades of grass, an arm beneath her head, she watched the serene white puffs of fluff float across the azure skies. Already, they were being painted soft pinks and oranges, as though some invisible artist were taking his paintbrush to the heavens. The tranquility was absolute, and for once, it remained as such.

"Nights like these..." she muttered softly on an exhale. Extending her free hand upward, Ruby lazily traced the contours of the passing clouds, fingertips curving delicately. A genuine smile lightened her expression as the lengthening shadows played across her features.

This would certainly be a night to remember.


	8. Chapter 4: A Gift Of Warmth

It dawned on Ruby almost immediately that nothing, no matter of imagination or practical training, could have prepared her for the celebrations of Hobbits.

She watched from her perch on the crest of the Hill as they arrived in droves from all over the Shire; sometimes in pairs or small families with politely dressed children who drifted toward old friends and relatives and struck up civil conversations, sometimes in rambunctious throngs who livened the lessening silence of the dawning evening.

Finally, the sun's light departed the land altogether, dimming rays relinquishing their hold on the grassy hills and slopes. Matches were struck and lanterns fizzed into existence, casting their illumination in smaller areas, though holding the same warmth as that which had recently faded. Casks of ale were cracked open, Ruby deciding then and there to stay as far from it as she was able.

It was only when the warm lights of the festivities grew in intensity to their final fullest that Ruby shoved herself upright and began the short jaunt down to the Party Field. The dress she had chosen swayed with her movements, its layered fabric offering comfortable protection from the chill of the evening. She would never have been one to willingly wear a dress on a regular basis - her combat attire, in her mind, hardly counted - but she couldn't deny that she felt especially and extraordinarily confident in this instance. The rich red fabric of the pelice, colored from a mixture of beet and bedstraw root dyes and lined with soft white wool, was almost the exact same shade as her cape. The cote beneath was a pale yellow, light enough to offer her complete freedom of movement, with black leather cuffs and a flattering low neckline.

A soft breeze swept up from the Water, carrying with it the wonderful smells of the party, and the echo of upbeat music. Exhilaration settling pleasantly in her stomach, Ruby picked up her pace and rounded the bend of Bagshot Row, bare feet churning the loose stones of the beaten track. Ahead, a bouncing light entered her line of sight. It took her a second to correctly identify it as a swinging lantern, casting ominous shadows across its bearer, who Ruby recognized through the darkness a moment later.

"Frodo?" she questioned, squinting in an attempt to affirm her assumption.

"Ruby! There you are," laughing merrily, he put his arm about her shoulders, "Bilbo hadn't seen you, so he sent me looking."

"Sorry," Ruby said, timidly rubbing at the back of her neck before running a hand through her lengthy locks. "I'm just not much of a fancy pantsy… dancey girl." _I've been here before,_ she thought with a small hum, finding it odd that she was in almost the exact same situation as Beacon's dance. Confidence in her attire was one thing, but her social skills left quite a bit to be desired. She didn't even want to _think_ about dancing.

"Nonsense!" Frodo, her insistence notwithstanding, was having none of it. In the Hobbit's mind, anyone could dance - how well was a matter to be disregarded - and if Sam could with reasonable poise, Ruby would certainly be able to.

And so the young Huntress found herself whisked down into the thick of things. A beautiful white picket fence had been erected around the field, separating the goings-on from the roads beyond. They passed through the intricate gate, meeting Bilbo on the other side, who had made a point of greeting all his guests personally.

"Ah, there you are my girl! Was beginning to worry we'd frightened you off," he chuckled and winked, and Ruby found his happiness so contagious that she couldn't help but smile herself. His brow furrowed in a funny sort of way before his eyes shot wide, and he raised a finger in indication that she should not move for a moment. He turned aside to a table that Ruby had had yet to notice, and when he turned back, he presented her with a small, paper-wrapped object.

"What's this?" Ruby asked as she examined it, puzzled by the apparent concept of giving other people things on one's birthday. The item was light, and perhaps a couple inches shorter than her forearm.

"Everyone who walks through my gates tonight gets a little something," Bilbo grinned mischievously, "Why don't you go have a look?"

Before she could say anything more, she was ushered aside by Frodo, allowing the group that had arrived behind them through. Clutching her gift tight to her chest, she offered her friend a smile, and the two of them began to make their way through the masses.

The entirety of the field had been consumed by multitudes of Hobbits, partaking in various activities. The crowd was thick, and buzzed with a nearly palatable energy that had Ruby on her toes in anticipation, though for what exactly, she was uncertain. Long wooden tables lined and dotted the green spaces, where families and neighbors and old friends sat, eating or smoking or enjoying a good conversation about the various happenings of the Shire. The pure, unadulteratedly joyful laughter and shouts of children rolled over the area as they ducked and wove between the legs of adults in ceaseless games of tag. A band played a jaunty tune for eager dancers, observers clapping in time with the beat.

And everywhere, there was light. Lanterns hung from the trees and the interior of tents or sat slowly burning on the tables. Young ones sprinted here and there, waving glittering sticks that crackled with trails of sparks that dissipated before they touched the ground. Cooking fires littered the northern end of the field, from which plate after plate of food was carried in a magnificent feast.

Being easily a foot taller than everyone else, Ruby saw all this quite clearly. This advantage came however with an equal downside, as eyes were drawn to her and whispers from those who had never seen her before arose.

'Who is that?' was chief among them, as well as several mutterings of, 'Isn't she one of the big folk?'. This did not phase Ruby quite as much as it had that morning, and she continued following Frodo despite the sour looks she was given.

Finally, the pair found a suitably empty place to sit, and Ruby dramatically flopped onto the bench, overwhelmed by everything around her. She smiled brightly at Frodo, who said something or other about heading off to find her something to eat, though she scarcely heard him over the din of the party. He disappeared, leaving her feeling quite alone all of a sudden.

Realizing that she still had an unnecessarily firm hold of her gift, Ruby decided that now would be as good a time as any to open it. Setting it on the table in front of her, she carefully undid the twine bow, and broke the red wax seal that had held the paper together. The wrapping unfolded easily, and she found herself cradling a leather-bound book. The cover was a soft beige color, tapering off in a darker gradient at the corners.

As she watched in absolute awe, golden writing faded into existence, etching itself into the cover. It was in a language Ruby did not understand, but the runes were beautiful nonetheless, and the symbol that followed beneath was familiar beyond any question. A rose. _Her_ rose, identical to the one borne by her combat skirt and weapon alike.

Fingers trailing almost hesitantly over the inscription, she stared in amazement. This was _definitely_ something she couldn't explain, though the rational possibilities of it simply being a trick of the light or some sort of special ink still sat heavily in her mind. For the first time, she dismissed them instantaneously and felt as though this was really and truly magic. It was a jarring concept, but Ruby paid no mind to the specifics. Instead, she slid her thumb under the cover and opened the book.

The page inside was blank. For a second, Ruby's heart fell, and she was sorely disappointed. That was abruptly replaced with wonder as the same phenomenon she had witnessed mere moments earlier occurred once more. Finely penned ink began to appear on the page as if some invisible hand were writing with an equally invisible quill.

' _For Ruby,'_ it read in the common tongue, then transitioned into more runes. Realizing that this was likely his way of insisting that she learn the language and that she wasn't going to understand them until she could ask Bilbo, she moved on, the parchment rustling as she turned the pages. She briefly flipped through, pausing on a random one that was, like the first, bare. She waited with bated breath, only to have it stolen away when an intricate design was scrawled into view.

It was a map.

Of where she wasn't certain. Yet, she could not help the smile of untarnished joy that tugged the corners of her mouth upward as she watched the minuscule peaks of mountain ranges, and flowing curves of rivers, dance before her eyes. In soft blacks and grays, the page quickly filled with every detail, with names and borders, and even a small compass rose that seemed to spin before settling into its proper direction.

"Thank you…" Ruby whispered to the open air, struggling to keep the prickling sensation assaulting her blurring vision at bay. She had never been given such a beautiful thing in all her life, and to receive it from one who knew so little about her, who had known her but for a few months, made it all the more precious.

Her reverie was broken not a heartbeat later by a mat of dirty golden hair sliding into view. She hadn't time to utter a word before the Hobbit leaned forward, breathless, and grasped her wrist. His blue eyes sparkled with a mischievous light, mouth drawn in a playful smirk,

"Ruby! We need your help."


	9. Chapter 5: Oddity

It was a foolish plan. Absolutely, unequivocally reckless. They could easily get themselves hurt, or perhaps worse, scare the living daylights out of everyone else. And no matter if they actually accomplished it or not, they'd receive the scolding of a lifetime from their visiting wizard.

Which meant that it was utterly perfect.

Ruby peered cautiously around the edge of one of the tents lining the field, clutching the fabric to avoid losing her balance. The cart she had ridden on only hours before stood undisturbed, it's largely vulnerable cargo simply screaming for something troublesome to happen. As the young girl watched, Gandalf came striding around the corner of another tent, chuckling contentedly to himself. He gathered a bundle of small, oddly shaped cylindrical objects from the wagon with a satisfied hum before hurrying off again, leaving the remainder unguarded.

Meriadoc Brandybuck, one of Frodo's cousins, slid discreetly around the side of the cart. Once certain the wizard would not return any time soon, he tapped the tent's canvas, the force of the impact causing it to billow momentarily. Ruby emerged from her hiding place in a steady creep, followed closely by another relative of the Baggins' heir, Peregrin Took.

Struggling to contain giddy laughter, the trio shared an excited glance, then approached the wagon. The multitude of objects laid out before them were, as she'd been assured by Merry, fireworks. She wasn't certain what they wanted to do with them - she had merely been enlisted to help retrieve a few, and with the promise of complete innocency should the worst occur.

Nodding to himself, Merry crouched by the open lip of the cart, cupping his hands, "Quick!" he hissed.

With the assistance of the offered leg-up, Pippin leapt into the wagon and began rifling through the inactive pyrotechnics. A knot of anxiety twisted the pit of Ruby's stomach as she kept watch, leaning casually on the wagon in an effort to look inconspicuous. Her silver eyes scanned the gap between the tents, from which she could clearly hear the goings on of the party, and the occasional pops and bangs of Gandalf setting off his small displays to the wonderment of children.

Straightening, Pippin showed Merry a firework in an unspoken question, though the latter immediately shook his head in disapproval, "No, no! Big one; we want a big one!"

Ruby wasn't entirely sure if this was a good idea, but the boys hadn't been hesitant in their insistence that it was a harmless, if unexpected, shenanigan. They had reasoned that Gandalf was going to set most of them off at some point or another anyways. Why not do at least one themselves, just for a laugh?

If she was to be completely honest with herself, however, Ruby was perfectly fine with it. They were, after all and according to Merry and Pippin, _magic_ fireworks. Made by a real wizard. You don't get the opportunity to set one of those off every day. It was all in good fun in her mind, hence why she had heartily agreed to assist the troublemakers who reminded her more and more of Sun and Neptune.

"Ruby!"

"Huh- gaaah!" The young girl squeaked indignantly as her cape was given a sharp tug, which nearly made her lose her balance. She turned as smoothly as she could to face Merry, who jerked his head toward the tents. Smirking, Ruby nodded and crept after him and Pippin, the latter cradling what looked to be a dragon-shaped tube under one arm.

As soon as they were certain that their escape had been successful, they huddled themselves against the fence line furthest from the main festivities. Once she had caught her breath and the adrenaline pounding through her veins had begun to ebb, Ruby snatched the firework from Pippin though no protest was voiced. Intrigued, she examined the rather simple object as best she could in the dim light.

It was large, reaching to about her waist in height, and indeed held the vague likeness of a dragon, its defining features crudely outlined in layers of flimsy parchment. A wooden stick extended from the bottom of the tube so that, Ruby assumed, it could be staked into the ground. A slightly shorter length of what appeared to be reinforced twine curled toward the ground.

"Uh, how… does this thing work?" She asked, raising an eyebrow in the general direction of her accompanying Hobbit duo. Merry and Pippin shot each other an alarmed look, as if they hadn't even thought of it. In truth, the boys had barely planned their little heist beyond actually grabbing a firework or two.

Merry carefully took the firework back, sticking the pole end under his armpit,

"We'll, um, figure that out! Don't you worry," the older Hobbit tried, and utterly failed, to sound reassuring. The young girl made a face, brows scrunching with her uncertainty.

"But I-"

"You better get going, Ruby. You know, before Frodo starts wondering where you've got off to," Pippin chimed in, gesturing down toward the party. Ruby glanced over her shoulder, recalling suddenly that she had upped and left without even bothering to tell her friend that she was going. It struck her then how awfully rude such a thing was, and while her concern for Merry and Pippin wasn't alleviated, it was somewhat overshadowed.

With a hesitant nod that was rather subdued, Ruby pivoted on her heel and started across the grass, the warm lights and deafening din rising in intensity as she approached. Stopping a few feet away, Ruby bit her lip and whirled about to face the boys. "Merry!" She called. The two paused in their hushed conversation, and lifted their heads toward her, "I, uh… if you're gonna set that thingy off, do it outside, okay? And not… well, not near anyone."

Before they could offer a reply, she cast a wave over her shoulder, and jogged off to rejoin the festivities. Slowing as she neared the edge of the crowd, she took a moment to brush herself off and did her best to make it look as though she'd never left. A smile settled onto her lips, and she began to weave through the masses in the hopes of finding Frodo.

She was passing a washing tent when, off-balance on the uneven ground, her shoulder slammed into another's. The impact sent a startled jolt through Ruby, her Aura easily absorbing the trivial hit, and she hurriedly turned to apologize, but the Hobbit she had knocked into beat her to it,

"Oi! Watch where you're going!"

"Oh! S-sorry!"

"I should think-!" Upon seeing her proper, the woman halted all at once, and her eyes narrowed. She eyed Ruby for a few, brief seconds in silence before demanding, "What's one of you doing here?"

Ruby was taken aback by the question, and the rude tone in which it was posed. Giving a series of rapid blinks, she parroted slowly, "One of… me?"

"You're one of the Big Folk!"

Ruby was utterly confused. She thought everyone knew that already, and those who didn't didn't seem to have a problem with it. It wasn't something she could, or was trying to, hide. "Well, yeah, but I-"

"So, what are you doing here?!"

"I-"

"It's bad enough that meddlesome wizard decided to go and turn up. Your kind don't belong here!"

By this point, Ruby was becoming quite uncomfortable. Those in immediate proximity had stopped, and were watching the exchange; some with evident pity, and others nodding in agreement with the Hobbit woman. Ruby felt a hot blush rising to her cheeks, and her hands trembled in anxiety. Her eyes darted about the area, searching for Frodo, or Sam - _someone_ she knew who could get her out of this.

Flustered, she made a final attempt at placating the woman, "I-I'm staying with Bilbo and Frodo Baggins."

As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished she had never said them. The woman's fury hit its peak, and she squared her shoulders indignantly. She was still far shorter than Ruby, but her presence was intimidating, and the red-clad girl found herself cowering under the sour scowl she was given.

"Of course," the woman snapped bitterly. "Of course my husband's _dear_ cousin would be the one to host a _Human_ ," she spat the word so harshly that Ruby winced.

Her irritation came to the fore, finally, and she clenched her fists in an attempt to stop the tremors that had crawled up her arms, "What's your problem? I said I was sorry." She stated. _She's like Weiss,_ Ruby realized. _The first time we met._

The glower that shadowed the elder woman's features would have sent anyone else six feet under. Much to her surprise, Ruby found herself returning the look with an equivalent of her own, brows knitting with her glare. The Hobbit opened her mouth, likely intent on directing another insult her way. At that moment, Ruby's attention was grabbed by someone taking her by the arm. Lividness fading from her expression, she gave a grateful hum as none other than Sam flashed her a reassuring smile,

"Miss Rose! There you are. Mr. Frodo's been looking for you everywhere," he announced, the brightness of his voice maybe a smidge too forced. He glanced over his shoulder, as if noticing the stalled party-goers for the first time. "Is something the matter?"

Ruby thought for a moment that the woman was going to protest but, much to her relief and with nothing more than a noise of pure disgust, she turned and stamped off into the crowd. Everyone began moving again, and Ruby felt her friend give her a gentle tug.

"Pay no mind to the Sackville-Bagginses, Miss Ruby," Sam said, leading her away and all the while keeping his hold, tight enough to be comforting and loose enough that she could shake him off if she wished. Ruby sighed, running her fingers through her hair, but didn't speak. She did not trust herself to speak a complete sentence without breaking into tears. So, instead, she took as deep a breath as she could, then let it out in staggered puffs - a calming technique Yang had taught her. She refused to cry in such a public setting; she wasn't sure if she would be able to handle the embarrassment.

Sam sat her down at a table by the dancing and presented her with a steaming plate of food. She felt his hand on her shoulder briefly, heard him tell her he would go find Frodo, and watched him disappear.

Ruby didn't have much of an appetite - ruined rather horribly by that Miss 'Sackville-Baggins' - but she found it in her to take a few bites of the homemade shepherd's pie Sam had gotten for her. It was delicious, and filled her with a cozy, satisfied warmth. Soon enough, the plate was empty, and she began to feel a bit better.

Eyes tracking the dancers, joyful laughter filling her ears, she gave a weary smile and waited to see the results of Merry and Pippin's little escapade.


	10. Chapter 6: Parting

Dancing had never been one of Ruby's strong points. She didn't particularly enjoy it in the forms she saw most often, that being slow-dancing and a boring waltz. There was too much room for error, and one had to put a ridiculous amount of trust in a partner that was as likely to lead a graceful twirl as they were to drop their counterpart. Even at Beacon's inter-semester ball, Ruby had stubbornly refused to participate, though she would admit - and only to herself - that the dance routine Team JNPR had performed had looked to be a lot of fun.

She discovered, rather wonderfully, that dancing with Hobbits was the exact opposite of everything she had previously thought the activity to be.

Her plate practically licked clean, Ruby had been contentedly enjoying watching those swinging and spinning on the matted grass before her when the Green Dragon's barmaid had appeared donning the brightest smile the young girl had ever seen.

"Come on, Ruby!" Rosie said in amid her giggling, taking a gentle hold of her arms and hoisting her out of her chair with startling ease. Ruby attempted to shy away, feeling quite uncomfortable. She had barely recovered from her encounter with the Sackville-Baggins woman, and she wasn't keen on making a fool of herself. She didn't know how, not to mention she would look utterly ridiculous towering above everyone else. Then again, that didn't seem to have stopped Gandalf…

"Oh, n-no Rosie, I-I don't dan- EEP!" Despite her best efforts, the last portion of her protest was lost to a yelp as she was thrust into the middle of the dancers and, her superior height notwithstanding, swept up by a stranger.

Ruby gave a slight huff as Rosie's tinkling laughter echoed in her ears, swearing silently that she would get her back for it later, though was quickly forced to focus on not stepping on the Hobbit - mercifully only a few inches shorter than herself - who had taken her as an impromptu partner. Managing this was no simple task, and the man seemed to get the hint, as he gave her a reassuring smile and slowed. A moment later, and Ruby found herself on her own, once again at the edge of the dancing. She was grateful for it, if a little disappointed.

Putting the insane tempo of the music out of mind, Ruby took a brief second to gather her bearings, and to glance at the movements of those around her. She was intrigued to discover that there was no rhythm or method to the dance - it was purely wild and energetic, everyone moving in a distinctly different way while keeping in time with the beat. _I guess it doesn't look that hard,_ she mused.

She watched anxiously for a long minute. It did look fun, and easier now that she somewhat understood that it wasn't something you necessarily needed to think about. Before she could lose her courage completely, she took a deep breath, and delved into the fray.

Shoving aside the urge to freeze, pushing her inhibitions and worry of embarrassment to the recesses of her mind, she let go - of her worry, of her fear of judgement, of her uncertainty and doubts - and allowed herself to be spun and shuffled along to the lively beat of the music. Her laughter, giddy and breathless, was stolen away as the world passed in dizzying blurs of color. Dancing - at least, dancing like this - Ruby decided, was thrilling in its unpredictability. Never knowing her footing or what she would do next, relying on a random stranger to keep her moving. She did step on a few feet, though her clumsiness was brushed off far easier than it would have been anywhere else.

She twirled on the ball of her foot, hair whipping with the motion, and flailed, briefly losing her balance. She managed to recover with most of her grace in tact and, taking a moment to straighten herself, fell back into step. _If Yang could see me now_ , she thought, feeling a swell of pride and joy. She was doing it - she was dancing, in a crowd of people who at that moment couldn't have cared less if she was out of place, and enjoying it.

The music slowed, the band striking its final note, and Ruby stumbled into open air with adrenaline still pounding in her head. The dancers gathered cheered, a few calling for another piece. Lightheaded, she plopped onto the ground and crossed her legs, a happy smile cemented on her expression.

"Ruby!"

Turning aside as her name was called, her grin brightened. Frodo halted at her side, his smile mirroring hers, "There you are. Where did you disappear off to this time?" Ruby simply hummed, a speculative gleam in her eye that made Frodo smirk, "Oh, I know that look."

"I have a look?"

The question levelled his way in the most sarcastically innocent tone possible had Frodo chuckling as he nodded, "It's your 'I've gotten into trouble again' look," he replied. Ruby said nothing, merely waggling her eyebrows in a mischievous sort of way. "Are you not going to tell me?"

"Mmm," Ruby feigned serious thought, quirking her head to one side, "Nope!"

"What are you u-"

Suddenly, a nearby tent exploded with a deep, resounding _BOOM_ , and the canvas was wrenched from its guy lines. Rightly startled, Ruby and Frodo turned in almost perfect sync, eyes wide. A collective gasp arose as the firework, still encased by the tent, raced into the sky, rocketing above the tree line. The magical pyrotechnic burst, casting fiery trails outward across the night sky.

 _So, they figured it out._ Ruby beamed as she got to her feet, applauding in delight and pride. However, her smile faded as a dragon's face developed from the exploding firework, wings forming as it swooped back down toward the crowd. She and Frodo shared an alarmed look as everyone began to panic, in all likelihood believing that the enchanted design would hit the ground, and the pair were submerged in the fray.

Ruby nearly lost sight of Frodo as the mass of Hobbits rushed past, breaking around her like she was little more than an obstruction to the flow. She knew it was doubtful that the firework would actually do any harm, though she couldn't exactly blame people for being frightened of something that looked so realistic. Dragons were a reality in Remnant, however rare, and more often than not they were Grimm.

Throwing herself to the ground and covering her head, the firework swooped over, just barely missing those who had the wherewithal to do the same. It fizzed and crackled in showers of sparks across the lake before finally, and safely, exploding in a dazzling array of vibrant hues on the horizon. Their fear alleviated, the Hobbits clapped and cheered and brushed themselves off.

It took a few moments to get everything sorted, but the party quickly resumed as normal, the band starting back up and people excitedly chatting about how incredible magic really was when used for such things. Ruby was inclined to agree. That had been incredible, if a bit heart attack inducing. Her thoughts strayed to Merry and Pippin, and she realized that she should probably make sure that the pair were alright.

Skirting by those calming themselves or setting tables back up, she headed for the source of the commotion. She arrived in time to see a very perplexed Gandalf leading the soot-dusted duo toward a washing tent, where she rightly imagined they be set to tidying up as punishment for their antics. Feeling rather guilty about her own involvement, Ruby wandered over, and came to lean carefully on her elbows on one of the tables.

"Why hello, Miss Ruby," Merry piped up, noticing her before she could put a word in edgewise. He didn't appear too pleased with the consequences beset them, but he did afford her a smile.

"Hi Merry," Ruby giggled, then cast him a sidelong look. "You two didn't hurt yourselves, did you? Do you need any-"

Pippin deposited a stack of clean dishes on the table with a huff. "Oh no, Miss Ruby. Right as rain we are, right Merry?" The former nodded, and winked at Ruby, who smirked.

"Yes. I believe we've got this handled," Merry agreed.

Shouts of, 'Speech!' came from the crowd, causing Ruby to glance over her shoulder. Waving to the troublemakers, she called out a farewell as she hurried back to where people had collected. She still felt like she should be helping Merry and Pippin, but they seemed to have things sorted, and didn't appear as though they particularly minded either.

Ruby and Frodo settled themselves at a table, applause rising as Bilbo clambered up onto an upright cask of ale, overlooking those gathered from his higher vantage point.

"My dear Bagginses and Boffins!" A collective cheer from those named, tankards lifted in returned acknowledgement. "Tooks and Brandybucks! Grubbs, Chubbs, Hornblowers, Bulgers, Bracegirdles, and Proudfoots!

"Proudfeet!" A large Hobbit repeated much to the amusement of the partygoers, his legs propped up on the table before him. Bilbo waved him off with a huff of exasperation, which only made those gathered laugh anew.

"Today is my One Hundred and Eleventh birthday! Or, I should say: our birthday. For it is, of course, also the birthday of my heir and nephew, Frodo!" Some scattered clapping came from the elders, and gleeful cheers from the younger ones. Ruby leaned over on the bench and gave Frodo as big a hug as she could manage from her position, which he returned with a happy chuckle.

"Alas, eleventy-one years is far too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable hobbits. I don't know half of you half as well as I should like and I like less than half of you, half as well as you deserve." The excitement of the crowd faded to confused silence, several Hobbits exchanging glances at the peculiar nature of the statement that few actually understood. Ruby gave Frodo an amused shrug, while trying to determine herself whether or not it was meant to be a compliment.

The observers waited for him to continue, though when he did, he sounded quite unsure of himself, "I, er…" Bilbo slid a hand discreetly into his pocket - or, at least, it would have been discreet but for the fact that there was nothing else to focus on. "I have things to do…"

Ruby, concerned, began to rise, but a gentle tug on her wrist had her settling again. Frodo gave his head a shake, offering a somewhat forced smile, the message in his expression plain; whatever Bilbo was up to, it was best just to leave it be. Still, Ruby couldn't help but bite her lip in worry as she watched his curious behaviour - something was wrong, and it was palpable.

"I've put this off for far too long," Bilbo finally said, in a serious tone that she had almost never heard before. Whispers arose from the masses at the odd shift in atmosphere, and Ruby cast Frodo another anxious look, "I regret to announce This is the end. I'm going now. I bid you all a very fond farewell." Bilbo, finally, caught her gaze, his own skipping for a moment between her and Frodo before a steady smile turned the corners of his mouth upward, "Goodbye."

With not one word more, Bilbo disappeared before their eyes in a flash, leaving the space he had been occupying not a blink earlier vacant. The Hobbits reacted with astonished gasps and murmurs, a few grumbles of 'Shouldn't come as no surprise' and 'Just like the old coot, that is' filtering above the general shock.

Frodo turned to Ruby, but the young girl was already gone, a burst of rose petals fluttering to the ground in her wake.

* * *

The speed boost her Semblance afforded her diminishing with another wave of sweet-smelling flowers, Ruby slowed as she leapt the fence lining the Party Field, the lights of the festivities and ruckus of shocked Hobbits fading behind her. Breath coming out in labored puffs, head beating wildly in time with her heart, she tried to make sense of what she had just seen. He had disappeared - just like that, right before her eyes. She'd never seen a Semblance able to perform such a feat, much less something in Middle-earth. Then again, her knowledge was limited, despite her resolve to read anything she could get her hands on.

It wasn't so much how Bilbo had vanished as why he had - what could he possibly be up to? _He can't be leaving,_ Ruby thought, turning onto the incline of Hill Lane. Her pace regressed to a brisk walk. What if he was planning on leaving? Where was he going? And why? Why would he want to leave the Shire - in all its beauty and tranquility - behind? Why would anyone?

These questions swirling in her mind, overwhelming her with anxiety, she continued her hike toward Bag End. From the field at her back erupted several pops and whizzes - more fireworks were being set off, in all likelihood to appease the guests. She watched absentmindedly as vibrant colors reflected off the dew-strewn grass, appearing and disappearing in rapid succession.

She would, she resolved, be able to talk him out of it. He had to stay - Frodo needed him. As surprising as it was to admit, she had grown to need him. He had been so kind to her; welcomed her, as a complete stranger, into his home and allowed her to stay. He'd never called her crazy, or doubted her confession of coming from a different world.

If she was honest, though, her reason for wanting him to stay in Hobbiton was quite selfish.

Ruby didn't want to lose someone else.

 _What if I can't?_ She wondered all of a sudden, silver eyes following the shadowed shuffling of her feet on the compact dirt of the road. She figured that, if she couldn't, he would at least explain to her why he wanted to go. That in mind, she bunched her skirts in one hand and took off at a jog, kicking up dust and loose gravel with each step.

Rounding the Hill, Ruby skidded to a stop outside the gate. She laid a hand on the fence picket, intent on heading inside. What it was that made her glance back, she wasn't sure, but she did nonetheless, and in the glow of the moonlight, she caught sight of a figure retreating down in the opposite direction from the one she had just come.

"Bilbo!" She called, racing to catch up. The Hobbit - indeed Bilbo - paused, startled, and turned as she approached. His smile was bittersweet; he should have known that she would be the one to catch up, and the one not to let him go without a word. Ruby halted, chest heaving irregularly as she attempted to catch her breath. Her relieved expression sank almost immediately as she took in his appearance - specifically, the pack slung over his shoulder,

"You are leaving."

It was a statement, rather than a question. Shifting his weight uncomfortably, Bilbo stamped his walking stick into the ground twice and avoided her gaze, "Yes. Yes, my dear, I am."

"Why?"

"I - It's a dreadfully complicated thing, my girl, and I'm afraid not something I can put into words."

"Will you come back?"

Bilbo shook his head, "I shouldn't think so, no." Regardless of her efforts to remain calm, Ruby could do nothing to ease the pin-pricking sensation that took to assaulted her vision. Seeing this, Bilbo frowned and put a comforting hand on her arm,

"There now, Ruby, don't fret. Walk with me?"

Blinking away her unshed tears, Ruby nodded and took up station beside him as he continued along his path toward the Frog Pond. Though still within view, the sounds of the party were distant, and becoming quieter with each passing minute as they ambled on in the relative silence of the night air. It became clear to Ruby quickly that Bilbo wanted to avoid being seen by anyone, and have the unpleasant business of explaining himself. He wanted to slip away into the darkness - quick, and quiet, and on a road that she assumed was familiar to him.

"One hundred and eleven years I've lived in the Shire," he spoke softly, though so suddenly that Ruby nearly jumped. He grinned up at her, full this time, "You know, the stories you told Frodo and I reminded me of my own? Fifty or so years past, now, but I remember it as though it were yesterday. When one lives in a place all their lives, then suddenly gets whisked off into something they never imagined possible, it's quite an extraordinary thing. But when they return, it's… not quite the same, my dear. I have longed to see the mountains again, and not just in my books and maps."

Ruby nodded slowly, "I understand."

She did, to an extent. When she had learned that Yang would be attending Beacon - finally leaving Patch for more than a day or two - she had wanted nothing more than to do the same. She had lived on that island all her life, so she could relate to gradually growing to find some place dull as a result of seeing everything there was to see, and doing everything there was to do, and longing for something - anything - else. But more than that, she realized that this was, really and truly, what Bilbo wanted. Whether she liked it or not, she wasn't going to dissuade him - nor did she necessarily want to any longer - and she would just have to accept it.

Soon, she heard the current of the Bywater gurgling softly beneath the stones of the bridge, and Bilbo stooped to fetch a lantern from his pack. When he straightened, it was lit, and in the flickering light she could see Bilbo's face properly. He looked a little older than he had earlier, and perhaps a little wearier, but his eyes were bright and it seemed as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "You'll be alright," he reassured. He hesitated a moment, then tilted his head, "My girl, if I may ask one favor?"

"Oh! Yeah, anything!" Ruby managed to mirror his smile, regardless of the sadness in her heart.

"That, there," he gestured to her carefully with his stick, "Your smile. Do not ever lose it. There is too much evil in this world, Ruby, and one often finds themselves smiling less and less and not knowing the reason why. And do remember, my dear - you will find your friends. I have no doubt of that."

Pressing her lips together in a last-ditch effort to not allow her emotions to boil over, Ruby crouched and threw her arms around her friend. Bilbo returned the embrace, albeit a little awkwardly. Both remained like that, in the silence, for some time before Ruby drew back, "Thank you," she forced past the lump in her throat, hoping she sounded as sincere as she felt. "For... well, for everything."

Bilbo offered her one last smile, then turned, and wandered off into the dark. "Be careful, Bilbo!" Ruby called, watching his swaying lantern shrink, "And, uh… good luck!"

If he made a reply, she never heard it. He and his light were swallowed up by the night, leaving Ruby squatting on the Bywater Bridge. She stayed, rooted to the spot, for what felt like hours but in reality was perhaps a quarter of that time. Then, heaving a trembling sigh, she passed a hand over her eyes, straightened, and, with one final look at the winding road beyond the Bywater, began her trudge back to Bag End.


	11. Chapter 7: Best Laid Plans

Without Bilbo, things in the Shire carried on as normal. The party decorations were taken down, any damaged barrels were broken apart to be used as firewood and those that weren't were cleaned out to be used again. The tents disappeared from the green as quickly as they had arrived, and while his absence was mentioned, it was almost as if the party had never happened.

That is, of course, beyond the satisfied comments of the Hobbits on the excellent nature of the food and ale, and Gandalf's fireworks. Speaking of the wizard, he had not been seen since the party. Most assumed he had simply upped and left, on the account that his horse and wagon had disappeared. Not that they minded. As much as they appreciated the spectacular display, it was still thought that he was a troublesome man, and no one in Hobbiton liked having him around for too long.

Ruby was, however, the exception in all this.

The hasty nature by which the party had been swept under the rug and things had returned to their lulled, day-to-day state irritated and confused her. It didn't help that she was still sore over Bilbo's departure. Even Frodo didn't seem too bothered by it.

"He's been speaking of it for ages, Ruby," he had said in an attempt to console her. "Don't fret. He'll be alright, and so will we."

It wasn't so much her friend leaving, Ruby found, that was the source of her rather sour mood the days after the festivities. She was tired, to be sure, but it was a sort of satisfied sleepiness rather than an actual lack of rest. In her time in the Shire, Ruby had had Bilbo to ground her and reassure her that she should stay put, rather than go off on a potentially dangerous venture to find her friends. In a way, having him around had settled her anxiety.

Now that he was gone, her desire to search for her teammates and her worry over them increased a thousandfold. Every morning, the pack she had purchased in the market in her first week - when she had thought to go off immediately, and had not counted on the wonderful generosity and hospitality of Bilbo - called to her, begging her to set out. She would pick it up, sometimes, as if attempting to tangibly weigh her options. Every time, she set it back down, telling herself she was being ridiculous.

This was the first morning she had actually put it on.

It was light, but she imagined that would change once the essentials for a long trip had been packed. It was, however, her size and sat comfortably on the small of her back. Suddenly, she could see herself actually leaving. She would pick up a walking stick from the door and step onto the road, taking the winding paths out of Hobbiton and into the fields beyond.

Giving her head a shake, she quickly set the pack on her bed. _What am I thinking?_ She demanded of herself. _I don't even know where to start looking._

Ducking through the doorway, she wandered down the hall. Her wicker basket sat by the entrance, as always. She took it, then turned and swept her straw hat off the hook.

"Frodo!" She called, her hand falling to the door's handle. "I'm heading to the market! Do we need anything?!"

"I think we're out of eggs!" Came the reply from somewhere within the maze of Bag End. _Milk, eggs, flour… Maybe I should try baking again._ Nodding, a small smile gracing her expression, Ruby slid out into the sunshine and pulled the door shut behind her.

Despite her growing worries, she continued to adore life in the Shire. In Vale, people always fussed over the weather. The VNN saying it would rain, or that there would be a thundershower, or the wind was high often dictated what people did with their day. Here, there was nothing of the sort. If it was light out, you walked outside. If it began to rain, you thanked Ulmo for watering the crops and headed home. Trepidation had no place in the daily goings on of Hobbits.

It was a little overcast, but the market was abuzz. The air was heavy with the smell of ale and pipe smoke and despite the rude mannerisms of the Sackville-Baggins woman a few nights earlier, no one minded her as Ruby made her way around. A few people even waved to her, or muttered a kind 'hello' as they passed. She found herself appreciating the warmth very, very much.

"Good afternoon t' you, Miss Rose!" Farmer Norvert's wife, Itta, said as Ruby stopped in front of their little stall.

"Hi," Ruby offered kindly, eyeing the fruits and vegetables on display. She felt a small pang of disappointment at the absence of strawberries - they were well out of growing season now, and she had already finished the last few that hadn't been sent to Rosie to be turned into jam. Her gaze did, however, settle on a stack of jars containing a rich, golden liquid. Perking up, Ruby took one in hand and grinned, "Oh, hey! I didn't know you kept bees."

"Indeed we do! We waited a little longer than usual, this time. Turned out our best harvest in years," Itta explained brightly.

"My mom had a couple hives back in Pa-" Ruby caught herself, realizing that the woman wouldn't know what Patch was. "Where I'm from." She giggled, setting the jar down in order to collect a few copper pennies from her purse. "I was too little to remember all that well, but my big sister tells me that I didn't like them."

Itta chuckled, "Get stung, did ya?"

"Oh, all the time," she nodded with a shrug. "Uh… apparently, mostly her fault though."

Two jars of honey and some raspberries went into her basket, and with a wave to Itta, she carried on her way. She made polite attempts at conversation with a couple more farmers as she bought what she needed, and soon, she was ready to head back to Bag End. After a minute's indecision, she chose instead to walk 'round the sprawling market and into the Green Dragon Inn. She wanted company, and she figured Rosie wouldn't be too busy.

The inn wasn't anything fancy, or lavish. Definitely not, for that matter, like the nightclubs in Vale. In the daylight hours, it was homely and tidy, with ceilings a little higher than those in Bag End and rich, polished red wood. And it was, best of all in her opinion, void of any exuberant drinking - _that_ was usually kept out where the sunshine could be enjoyed. Ruby perched as comfortably as she could on one of the stools by the main bar, setting her load down out of the way. She always felt a little silly, but it was something that she had grown somewhat accustomed to. She could, at least, move around without bumping her forehead on the rafters.

A familiar face rounded the corner, a few glasses clinking gently in hand,

"Hello, Ruby!" said Rosie, slipping behind the counter. A plate holding an iced, spiral pastry was set in front of Ruby, who blinked in surprise. She offered the young girl a smile, which was returned, though not quite as brightly.

"Oh! Thanks, Rosie. Quiet today?"

"So far," the barmaid nodded, continuing even as she milled about. She turned aside to collect a tray of dirty glasses and, producing a cloth from somewhere on her person, began to clean them. "You should have seen Seredic the other night. Had to send him home early, the poor boy could barely walk straight!"

Ruby giggled. Her slightly lifted spirits, however, faded quickly, and she halfheartedly picked at the warm treat she had been given. The pair lapsed into silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, but her mood must've shown on her face, because Rosie set her rag over her shoulder and leaned forward,

"Is everything alright, dear?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah! Everything's… just fine!" Rosie seemed less than convinced.

"Ruby…"

"Really. I'm…" _'Alright'_ , she wanted to say, but found the word caught on her tongue. Were she being honest with herself, she truly wasn't. She was miserable - there were no two ways about it.

Ruby set her fork down and folded her hands in her lap, "I- Well, I… u-um…" Inhaling deeply, she began to twiddle her thumbs, biting her lip in uncertainty. Rosie was, in all likelihood, the best person to speak with about her troubles and one of the few in the Shire who knew, much less marginally believed, where she was from.

"I don't know what to do," Ruby said at length, staring dejectedly at the floor. Out her peripheral, she saw Rosie watched her expectantly, no small degree of worry in the Hobbit woman's gaze. She didn't, however, pry. It was a small mercy; one that Ruby was grateful for.

"You… remember I told you about my team?" She began slowly, glancing up only long enough to see Rosie nod. "I… I want to find them. I _need_ to find them. I'm their leader. I-I'm supposed to keep us together. But… I don't know where to start looking. Middle-earth is so... _big_ , and… and, I would need to tell Frodo."

She blinked, realizing how what she had said might sound. "I-I don't mean to-... I love it here. In the Shire. I really do. And I can't thank everyone enough for being so kind to me, but I-"

"Ruby," Rosie interrupted. "It's alright. They're your friends, dear. You're more than allowed to be worried for them." A frown tugged the corners of her mouth downward. "Though, leaving the Shire… are you certain?"

Ruby gave her head a shake, "No. But I have to, either way."

She truly didn't know if leaving the Shire - if looking for her friends, when the terrain was so unknown - was a good idea. She had never, however and at the same time, let an unfamiliar situation deter her. Not when starting her training at Signal, not when accepting admittance into Beacon, not when she was named team leader. She wasn't about to let fear of what she could find beyond the borders of the Shire stop her now. Her teammates were out there. And she knew, without a doubt, that they would do anything to find her were the situation reversed - if, wherever they were, they weren't looking already.

 _Maybe_ , she thought with a sudden, small smile, _I'll find them on the road. Maybe I won't have to go that far at all._

"Well," Rosie's voice drew her from her musings. Ruby, finally, lifted her head. "It seems as though you've made up your mind. I'm afraid there's not much I can offer in the way of advice; few of us have ever ventured far from home, and fewer as far as to leave the Shire." Despite her concern, Rosie seemed to come to her own decision. The barmaid's smile returned in full. "I… can tell you that there's a village to the East, where you could start looking. Bree, is its name. It's the closest to Hobbiton most Men wander so, even if your friends can't be found there, you might hear word of them."

Rosie laughed. "Given your looks, and if your friends are anything the like, it'd be hard to miss them."

Ruby smiled, somewhat bewildered. She wasn't sure if that was a compliment or an insult, but she didn't think to pay it much mind. "Thank you, Rosie," she said in the sincerest tone she could muster.

 _Bree_ , she turned the name over in her mind, humming as she took another bite of her pastry. She could remember, vaguely, seeing the name on one of Bilbo's maps. She wasn't the greatest at reading maps and figuring distances - she had, after all, grown up on a small island - but it hadn't looked all that far. She could check, quietly, when she returned to Bag End. Ruby found herself excited. Now she knew where to go, and leaving didn't seem as horrible a concept as it had mere minutes earlier.

Rosie set her tray of now-clean glasses on the counter before speaking once again, "I'll see if I can gather some things. It's a long way, and expect to see you again come the Spring." Ruby started at her in surprise, and no small amount of awe.

"Oh, Rosie, you don't have t-"

A hand was raised to forestall her protest, and she fell silent. "It's no good going off on your own if you can't take care of yourself." This time, Ruby couldn't help but feel a little bit slighted. She was a Huntress or, at least, one in training. She could take care of herself just fine.

Then, as quickly as her sourness had returned, she realized what Rosie meant. She could fight, yes, but she had never had to travel further than from Patch to Beacon, and the other way 'round. She had no clue how to pack for such a journey. She hadn't even considered it.

A very motherly look on her face, Rosie rounded the bar and gestured for Ruby to follow her. "Now then, I have some time. Let's sit down and figure out what you'll need."

* * *

 **A/N: I'd like to express my sincere gratitude to everyone for their patience, as I know I took longer than I promised to finish this update. I can't thank you all enough for your continued interest and support - it truly means the world to me.**


	12. Chapter 8: The Road Goes Ever On

"Frodo, I'm leaving."

Ruby made a face. Shaking her head in dissatisfaction, she shifted the bag that weighed far too heavily on her back.

"Frodo, I have to leave."

Still, the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach remained. _This is impossible,_ she moaned to herself. Heaving a sigh, Ruby gazed around for something to bolster her courage.

Though she had given conscious effort to tidying the place up in her wake, the room had been almost completely emptied. She wasn't particularly used to the idea of traveling a far distance on her own. At Beacon or Signal, she had always been accompanied by friends or professors or her team. But, she didn't let the daunting nature of the task ahead deter her.

She'd packed smart or, at least, had tried to. Some decent clothing for when it got cold. A book of matches. An extra blanket and cloak. Her bedroll, by far the bulkiest thing, had been secured on top. Waiting beside her was a cloth sack of cooking supplies, and food she hoped would last a while. She had left in an envelope on the desk whatever money she had made and owed Frodo which, while not a substantial amount, had been enough to stick out in her mind whilst gathering her things.

"Frodo, I'm sorry," she tried again, gentler this time, "but I have to find my friends. I… I need to leave."

Her reflection in the wall-mounted mirror mimicked her expression as it shifted from sadness to one of barely contained frustration. She gave a soft, keening groan as her head lolled backward and her body followed, the pack slipping from her shoulder to land on the floorboards. The dull thud barely registered in her ears. No matter how she tried to tell herself that she couldn't sit around and wait any longer, the words didn't sound right. Every time she pushed, the idea of saying goodbye to Frodo shoved her back. Ungrateful, she told herself. It was ungrateful, and rude, and utterly disregarded the fact that he had just seen his Uncle leave not a week earlier. It spat in the face of his friendship, and she hated it.

Rolling onto her side, her gaze came to land on her cape. It hung on a peg by the door, ready to be fastened in its familiar place around her shoulders. Time hadn't been kind to the garment. While she had done her best to take care of it, it was tattered and stained, the seams had long since begun to fray, and its once-vibrant red had faded to a duller shade.

 _Weiss is never gonna let me hear the end of it._ The thought came and went in a moment, but it made her smile all the same. On a long breath, she closed her eyes and tried to remember exactly when she had gotten the cape. She could scarcely recall a time when she'd not been wearing it, or one like it.

The first, if memory served correctly, had been a year or so after her mother had passed away. It had been a birthday gift from her uncle, loosely yet carefully wrapped in yellowed newspaper, and left on her bed for when she woke up. Small, and the brightest shade of red she had ever seen. Absolutely gorgeous. That had been the same year she had truly begun to set her heart on the idea of becoming a Huntress and, in retrospect, the cape had been a display of subtle encouragement to follow in her parent's footsteps.

Ruby stood and collected her current iteration from the wall. Settling onto the end of the bed, she ran the soft fabric through her fingers. This one, she hadn't had for quite as long - coming up on just under three years. Her father had given it to her upon her acceptance into Signal. Her smile flickered, growing for a moment, then faded as she lowered the cape between her knees. Remembering it now, she could see his eyes, clear as day. The hesitation. The fear.

"Pride," he had told her, fastening it around her shoulders with a melancholic sort of grin, "doesn't even begin to describe this, sweetheart."

 _And what have you done to earn that pride?_

Ruby bit her lip as the question sliced a devastating gash through her mind. Her features tightened, chest constricting painfully. Giving her head a frantic shake, she pressed the heel of her palm to her eye and struggled to banish the overwhelming prickling sensation. She squeezed her eyes shut and denied the want to cry with all her will.

 _What if I can't find them?_ She thought. _What if I get lost, wandering around a world I don't know anything about? What if they're really far?_ _What if I can't find anybody who's seen them?_

The more she contemplated her situation, the worse the whispers of doubt became - echoing, tormenting. What if, what if, what if…

 _What if I'm here alone?_

The possibility hit Ruby like a charging Boarbatusk. In her time in the Shire, she had certainly considered it, but Bilbo's confidence had often helped her shrug off her worries. Now, on her own and facing a wide world ahead, there was nothing to banish the terrifying prospect. If she was… if there was no way home, and she was to live out her days never seeing her team, her friends, her _family_ , again…

 _I didn't even get to say goodbye…_

"No!" said Ruby suddenly. Her own voice sounded strong and defiant in her ears despite stubbornly breaking, and she forced herself to take a deep breath. She couldn't afford to think like that, whether there was a realistic chance or not. She couldn't just sit down and let what might be stop her from trying. She could do this. She was a Huntress.

Opening her eyes, she lowered her gaze to the fabric now crumpled in her hands. _Battered_ , she thought with a nod. _But not torn_. Slowly, deliberately, she draped it over her shoulders. It fastened snugly into place, and the slight weight immediately relaxed her. She turned to look at her reflection in the mirror once more. Her image stared back.

A letter. She could write a letter.

* * *

Even in the earliest days of Winterfilth, the dawning hours of the morning were frigid. Not yet enough to dust the gardens with frost, but enough to be uncomfortable until the sun rose. So, as Ruby carefully shut the door of Bag End behind her and felt its latch click firmly into place, she found herself drawing her cape all the tighter around her lithe frame.

The sky was just beginning to lighten, shifting from a deep purple to softer grey. Ruby knew she didn't have much time before the farmers emerged from their homes to begin their day's work, but she wholly planned to be long gone by then. Taking the steps slowly, her lantern extended before her, she approached the fence. While it was something she had done many times over the past six months, this time, it felt wrong. Her motions held a certain finality, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she would never walk this path again.

She set a hand on the gate and pulled gently. It swung open for her with a soft creak. Stepping onto Bagshot Row, she gingerly eased it back before straightening. Her back was already heavily ladened with her supplies, so she took Crescent Rose in hand. Then, she turned one final time to the darkened windows of the house under the hill. Somehow, though her lantern was the only strong source of light, it managed to look not at all ominous. In fact, it was as inviting as it had been the day she had arrived.

Momentarily shuffling her things, Ruby raised a hand to tug her hood up over her head. She squared her shoulders, spun on her heel, and set off down the road.

Each step felt a little heavy as she walked, taking comfort in the soft sounds that always seemed to permeate Hobbiton. The churning _thunk-thunk-thunk_ of the mill; the gurgling of the river as it rushed against the stones of the bank; the murmurs of animals. It all felt normal, and tranquil. 'Safe' was the word that came to mind, but Ruby shook it aside with a small huff. Safe… was certainly not a word she liked anymore. Safe meant dull. Meant complacency. Meant her uncle's fingers gently ruffling her hair, and the feather-light touch of her father's lips to her forehead. Meant the arms of her sister, the gentle chastising of her partner, the rare smile of her teammate. Meant a family she had to find, and a home she was leaving behind.

Her grip on Crescent Rose tightened and she walked faster. _It's going to be okay_ , she thought firmly, forcing herself to keep her breathing steady. Loose pebbles crunched underfoot as she swung around a bend, lantern swaying with her sharp movements.

Only once she reached the small bridge over the Water did she pause and retrieve the book Bilbo had given her. Flipping through the pages, she chewed her lip in indecision before settling on a page that felt right. For a moment, it remained blank. Then, under the soft glow of her lantern, black ink faded into existence. She silently followed her route, fingertips ghosting the parchment. She would continue south. Then take the Great East Road to the Brandywine Bridge. While a little irritated that the map dropped off without indicating where _beyond_ the bridge Bree was, it wasn't as if the road lay untravelled. She could easily ask someone for directions if need be. Or, for that matter, leaf through the other pages when she had a minute.

The book was returned to its place in a small pouch on her belt. Ruby, however, didn't move just yet. She perched instead against the cool stones at her back, folding her hands in her lap, and watched. The sky lightened further, and dusty glows were cast over the landscape. The sky became streaked with warm pink and orange hues, mingling with the soft grey of lingering darkness. The first rays of light peered like an inquisitive child over the hill tops, catching in the dew that coated the fields and gardens and refracting in myriads of tiny rainbows.

 _The road goes 'ever on and on…_

The fragment of a song caught and held in her mind. Bilbo had sung it at some point, low and soft and believing no one else was around to hear it, but she couldn't quite recall how it went. All the same, she smiled - genuine and bright. And then, silver eyes flashing briefly in the sunlight, she went on her way.

… _and I must follow if I can…_


	13. Chapter 9: Deep Breaths

Ruby quickly found that being on her own was not as nearly bad as she had thought it would be. She wasn't to the point at which she would say her worries had been unfounded but, snapping some dead pine branches over her knee, she realized just how well she was doing.

She had spent a total of eleven hours on the road. Or, at least, that's how long she figured it had been. The sun wasn't the easiest thing to judge anything by. However, taking into account that it was now at her back and once again disappearing behind the treeline, Ruby settled on somewhere around five o'clock. She had stopped - to take a drink of water, or nibble on some of the cookies Rosie had kindly baked her, or to rest her feet - a few times over the course of the day, but her breaks hadn't had too adverse an effect on her travel time.

She was, if she had read her map correctly, a few miles from Frogmorton. She imagined the rest of the trek into civilization would have only taken another hour or so, but with the sun going down, she had decided it would be best to make camp. Daylight, she still had. Luck, however, was not currently in abundance, as Ruby realized that she had very little knowledge of how to light a fire.

She had seen people do it before, of course. When her dad had finally come around after her mom had died, the Xiao Long-Rose trio had had campfires often in their backyard. And before that, Yang had given it a shot once or twice to varying degrees of success that usually ended with a few trees also being singed.

Ruby had amassed a sizeable pile of dry wood near her makeshift fire pit. Settling onto her knees, she began to stack them in the crude shape of a log cabin. Then, once satisfied, she produced a small book of matches from her pack, struck one and set it amongst the wood. Nothing caught. After a few seconds, the small piece of tinder fizzled out in a puff of smoke. Undeterred, she struck another and repeated her action, moving it a little further into the pit this time. Hope swelled in her chest for a moment as she heard a slight crackle, but it died as quickly as her second match.

Her lips quirked and she heaved a bemused sigh. Scooting over a few inches, Ruby rearranged her pile a bit, straining to remember how it was supposed to look, and tried again.

A wrong tug had the wood toppling sideways. A flick with a tad too much pressure led to a handful of broken matches. And still, the fire refused to be lit.

"Guh!"

Her backside hit the ground as Ruby threw the matchbook in frustration. Something fluttered in the bushes, startled by the noise. A crow squawked in the distance. A series of carts thudded by on the road, which Ruby could see but not easily be seen from. The sun had disappeared completely now, and the cold swept in on an uncomfortable wave. The sky dipped into a soft shade of greyed purple, the scant remnants of light leaving the young Huntress with a choice; keep trying, or go without.

She didn't much see the point in the former: it must've been a good half hour since her first attempt, and she had to stop wasting matches. Chilly as it was, it was still bearable, and she wasn't desperate enough to use a precious fire Dust round that she might well need later. So, rubbing a hand over her tired eyes, Ruby rolled back up onto her knees and set about searching her pack for something to eat that wouldn't need to be cooked.

A bit of digging rewarded her with some cheese and bread and cold meat, and even a slightly bruised green apple. Contented, she settled onto her sleeping roll and sat cross-legged. Ruby stared at her cold fire pit as she ate, chin propped up in her palm. There had to be a way to get it to light; something simple she was overlooking. Maybe the wood wasn't dry enough? Maybe she was trying to light too much at once?

"Wish you were here, sis," she muttered through a mouthful of bread. Yang would know what to do. Even if she didn't, her frustration probably would have had the fire lit either way. The thought made Ruby giggle softly, before a frown slipped onto her expression. She hoped her sister would be proud of her.

Ability to light a fire notwithstanding, of course.

* * *

Morning came slowly, and it took Ruby all of two minutes to realize that sleeping without a fire had been a grievous mistake. Every fibre of her being - at least, those she could still properly feel - felt stiff and frigid, like she had been stuffed into one of Beacon's industrial kitchen freezers. Consciousness, though slow coming, brought about an awareness of just how cold she was, and she immediately began to shiver violently. Fingers dug into the fabric of her sleeping roll as she curled in on herself, drawing the scant blankets closer.

Pulling dry, cold air into her lungs, she forced her eyes open a crack. She couldn't see much of anything right away; in fact, she had to blink several times to clear the lethargic glaze from her vision. She shimmied a little further into her roll, until only her silver eyes shone over its edge, and glared at her inert pile of wood. Gods, all she wanted to do was bury herself under a warm duvet and go back to sleep until noon. Or at least get the damned thing lit so she could have breakfast.

 _Come on, up you get,_ came some part of her mind that wasn't utterly miserable. It sounded a lot like her dad. _It's going to be cold either way. Moving will help warm you up._

With a moan, Ruby conceded. Clutching her blankets close, she struggled upright and crossed her legs. A yawn pushed itself from her chest, though she fought the urge to stretch, not wanting to lose what little warmth was left in her arms. She blinked a couple more times and gazed around her little clearing. It was quiet, save for the pleasant chirping of morning birds. The Great East Road, from what she could see, lay empty. A few branches snapped further on in the forest, but the absence of Grimm meant that it was only animals that she figured would leave her alone.

Once the blankets were draped, carefully, around her shoulders like a bulky addition to her regular cape, she stuffed her feet into her boots and rose. _That was probably another bad idea,_ she realized with a small huff, relishing the slight warmth that began to seep into her toes. Sleeping with her boots on wouldn't be comfortable, but it would definitely prove a bit better in the mornings.

Hugging her cocoon to her chest with one hand, she extended her other high above her head. As if lifted by a puppet master, her body pushed itself onto her toes, following the motion of the stretch on instinct. A pleased groan escaped her lips, and she rolled her shoulders. She shook out her hair, carding her fingers through it before slipping her arm back under her blankets.

 _Okay,_ she thought with a small, tired sigh. _Time to try again._

It only took a few moments of searching to find her matches, laying in the dirt where she had tossed them the night before. With shaking fingers, she crouched by her pit and struck one. It flared up in a wonderful burst of sweet smoke and color, its heat tingling through her numb fingertips. Leaning over, she set it amongst the wood.

"C-come on…" she urged. For a fleeting few seconds, it seemed as though it had caught, the flame growing in intensity and size. Then, all at once, smoke again replaced the dancing light, much to Ruby's chagrin.

"Hnngh! Come on!"

"Ho there! Everything alright, lass?"

Ruby spun on her heel at the new and unexpected voice. Her blankets flew from her shoulders, scattering on the ground at her feet or sliding haphazardly over her knees, and Crescent Rose was in hand before her mind had a chance to catch up. Her hands tightened around the shaft of her familiar weapon, knuckles white as her gaze landed on the newcomer.

The man was shorter than her. Not quite as short as a Hobbit, and stocky in build, with a full beard and curious eyes. He carried a burlap sack over one shoulder, secured across his chest with a length of rope. A Dwarf, Ruby realized and straightened slightly, relaxing her grip. Bilbo's fond tales of a group of Dwarves he had once had an adventure with in his younger days filtered into her mind, and she relaxed somewhat.

The stranger raised both hands in a placating gesture.

"Now now, no need for alarm," he said. "Just heard you from the road is all; thought something might be the matter."

"I… u-um…" Ruby averted her gaze, eyes skipping uncertainly over her camp. "Y-yeah. I'm… fine, just… having some trouble with," she glanced at her stack of wood and took a hand off her scythe long enough to gesture, "this."

"Lightin' a fire?" The man asked. She nodded, and his thick brows shot upward. "You don't mean to tell me you've been out 'ere overnight without a fire, do you?"

"Well… yeah," she admitted, an embarrassed heat flooding her cheeks.

"You must be near freezin'! 'Ere. Let me show you," the Dwarf took a small step toward her, and she automatically leaned into her sight, tensing. He stopped, though with a good-natured smile. She wondered if he even took her as any sort of threat at all. "Easy with that. I mean no harm."

"What do you want?"

"What's that?"

"I-" Ruby paused, and bit her lip. "In return. What do you want?"

"Not used to people bein' kind for kindness' sake, lass?"

"N-no, I didn't mean-!"

The short man barked a merry laugh, shaking his head. Instead of replying, he settled next to her crude firepit and cleared out some of the mess, seeming to ignore her weapon entirely. After a minute and with a flick of a concealed trigger, Crescent Rose folded in on itself, though she kept it clutched tightly hand. Moving cautiously, Ruby knelt across from the man. She didn't trust the stranger, but he didn't look armed, so she turned her focus to what he was doing.

"Got a book of matches on you, lass?"

Ruby silently passed it to him. In the blink of an eye, the wood was balanced in a cone-like structure, with smaller, chipped pieces set in between the larger logs. The Dwarf swiveled and ripped wads of grass from the ground before stuffing them in the middle. As she watched, he struck a match and the grass ignited. She leaned forward a little closer with the idea of a smile as it began to catch.

All at once, Ruby found herself shoved to the ground, a startled yelp falling from her lips.

"H-hey!" she grunted, beginning to straighten. The cold bite of steel slid against her throat, and she froze. Any friendliness in the Dwarf's gaze had disappeared.

"Don't you move, lass," he hissed, though the second half of the warning was lost on Ruby as she thrust Crescent Rose upward, extending into its scythe form and pushing the Dwarf back. A disproportionately high yelp came from the short man as he landed hard amongst the undergrowth.

Shoving herself upright, Ruby twirled her beloved weapon, the blunt side of the arced blade slamming into the dirt with a dull _thud_. She hoped that she looked at least a little bit more intimidating than before.

The Dwarf grunted, cradling the back of his head with one hand as he staggered to his feet, loosely gripping his dagger with the other. Ruby swallowed hard, finger itching to slide around Crescent Rose's trigger. The idea of using it, however, churned her stomach.

"Please don't," she said, the levelness of her voice in steep contrast to the adrenaline coursing through her veins. "Believe me when I say that you can't hurt me, and I don't want to hurt you." Her gaze hardened, eyes narrowing, and she pointed firmly in the direction of the road. "Go. If you know what's good for you, you won't try to rob anyone on this road again."

It was an empty threat, and for a moment, Ruby feared it wouldn't work. Thankfully, after only a few seconds of tense silence in which Ruby slid her foot back and braced against Crescent Rose, the Dwarf turned on his heel, and was gone in the blink of an eye.

As soon as she could no longer hear the crunch of footsteps, she wilted, careening to the ground with a low groan.

"So much for doing okay…" she muttered to the silent morning air. A crow squawked in the distance; her only response.

Puffing a breath through her bangs, Ruby settled back down, Crescent Rose finding its home back on her belt. Bringing her knees up to her chest, she strove to calm the wild beating of her heart. It was only then, in the silence of the morning, that she realized she had stopped shivering. Blinking in surprise, she turned to the fire that now crackled away, bathing the area in warmth.

Very, very slowly, Ruby smiled.

* * *

 **A/N:** _Updated to fix an out of character reaction._


	14. Chapter 10: A Light In The Dark

It wasn't long into the hours of the morning that the weather began to take a turn for the worse. A harsh wind blew from the north, causing the temperature to plummet, and thick grey clouds roiled overhead, effectively blocking any warmth the sun may have provided. Ruby had drawn her hood up over her head at the first hint of the darkening sky, and really wasn't looking forward to the idea of being caught in the rain. On the brighter side of things, at least in her mind, her cape's reassuring warmth did wonders to ease her anxiety. It almost made her feel invisible, as the few strangers she passed on her way paid her little mind outside the occasional 'good day', which she enthusiastically returned.

Crescent Rose was heavy in hand as she left Frogmorton behind. The day dragged on toward noon, and silence fell. Realizing how long it had been since she'd seen anyone, Ruby paused and looked around.

There was no sight nor sound of people, from ahead or behind. The clouds had closed in completely - an uninterrupted, dark curtain hanging overhead - and, while her map promised she was only an hour or two from Whitfurrows, the road lay bare in a way it hadn't before. It felt wrong. Dead.

Shifting her pack, she tried not to pay it much mind. _The weather_ , she thought. _It's just the weather. No one wants to be walking in the rain._ She was as safe as she felt she could hope to be, what with her weapon and wits intact. She could readily defend herself if needed. There was nothing she could see to be frightened of, but that in and of itself is what worried her. The Great East Road was empty.

Ruby began to walk again, but now, she felt it too. The eerie quiet stretched on. No birdsong came from the trees; no rustling of animals in the bushes. It was as though the entire countryside had suddenly held its breath, waiting, and for what, she didn't know.

Soon, acre upon acre of open farmland was revealed, the treeline rolling back and left behind altogether. By now, a pervasive feeling of dread had settled in her stomach; one that seemed to grow with each step she took. Still, the well-traveled road sat barren. Ruby wracked her mind for some small comfort to break the silence but found nothing. Knuckles white, she tightened her hold on her rifle and drew her cape a little more snugly. Then, all at once, she stopped.

 _Clop… clop… clop…_

The steady sound of horse's hooves on the dirt came from 'round a small bend in the road. To Ruby, it sounded like nothing more than another traveler, but there was no churning of a cart's wheels to accompany it, which she found odd. More than that, however, the knot of dread increased a thousandfold, tightening painfully as an abrupt wave of unknown fear washed over her. Her heart seized, and she suddenly found it very hard to breathe.

 _Clop… clop… clop…_

An icy breeze swept across the road, ripping Ruby's hood from her head and strewing her hair across her face, and with it arose something she had not expected. The raw, desperate feeling that she didn't want to see whatever was coming.

 _Get off the road,_ her panic-stricken thoughts implored. _Now!_ But there was nowhere to go. On either side were stalks of grain, in rows too dispersed to hide her and her bright red cloak. She couldn't see the woods anymore. A shout rose in her chest, but she couldn't force it past her lips. Her breath caught.

 _Clop… clop…_

The horse came first into view, materializing from behind the corn stalks like a phantom. In the shadows of the clouds, it appeared completely black, save for red eyes that stared blankly at the road upon which it trod, and high on its saddle was a black-robed rider, whose head swiveled slowly from left to right and back again as it approached. Crescent Rose trembling at her side, Ruby stood transfixed in muted terror, able to do nothing but watch it grow closer and closer.

A twig snapped beneath the horse's foot.

Ruby finally managed to take a step away.

And the Black Rider's gaze was on her.

Her lungs burned for air but she couldn't breathe, for there was nothing beneath the rider's hood. Darkness peered back at her, empty and twisting, and the longer she stared, the more she felt it consume her. No glint of pale light caught the rider's eyes, if it even had any, but she knew it watched her as she did it. The horse carried on, its gate unchanging. Heart pounding in her ears, Ruby urged her trembling legs to carry her another step back toward the fields, feeling as though they would give out at any moment.

It wasn't a creature of Grimm, despite its appearance, nor did it feel like one. If anything, the aura exuding from the slouched figure reminded her of that which she had felt sitting near Gandalf, but fouler and bearing none of the warmth. She shrunk beneath its looming presence, an overwhelming feeling akin to condescension forcing her back yet a third step.

Then, as swiftly as it had faced her, the rider turned aside, and both passed in complete disregard of her presence. Slowly, the rhythmic fall of the horse's hooves faded into the late morning breeze.

It was a while later that Ruby - finally - jerked and took a deep, hiccuping breath. Her hands fell to her thighs as she doubled over, heaving gasps shaking her body and fighting back the urge to be sick. Gradually, though, the firm spell of fear around her was lifted. Her trembling eased, along with her heart's wild gallop, and she inhaled far more steadily.

Gathering what scraps of composure she could, the young Huntress turned. Her scythe unfolded in hand, and she dug its tip into the hard soil before leaning in to look down the scope. She saw nothing. The rider was gone.

Ruby sagged against the shaft of her weapon. "What _was_ that?" she asked of no one in particular and received no reply. She was, however, quick to readjust her pack, lean Crescent Rose against her shoulder, and pick up the pace.

* * *

The clouds remained throughout the afternoon and, without the sun's light to guide her, darkness crept up quickly. When the skies finally opened and sheets of rain began to shroud the hills around her, Ruby had left Whitfurrows behind, and was forced to rely on her lantern to illuminate the gloom as she pressed on into the night. Her cloak clung to her body like a sort of second skin, bangs dripping water into her eyes and down her cheeks. Her breaths came in puffs of fog, carried off by the whistling wind. It was only once the Brandywine Bridge was within view, and her feet ached so much that every step hurt, that she sought shelter beneath the close-knit leaves of an old oak.

The ground was cool, but not damp, so she laid her bedroll amongst the roots. Setting her pack beside her, she emptied its contents, glad to find that her kit wasn't too soaked. Taking a small sack of dried fruit from her provisions, she made herself comfortable and sat for a time with a book, waiting for the stormy gale to die down.

Eventually, it did, tapering off into an occasional breeze. What was left of her firewood from that morning had been stowed safely in the bottom of her pack to be kept dry, and in short order, Ruby had a small, cozy fire going. The dancing flames crackled merrily, helping to banish the fear that had lingered from her encounter that morning. She draped her cape over a low branch to dry and wrapped the rough-spun blanket she had brought around her shoulders in its place.

The night beyond her camp was absolute but for the light of the moon, which caught in the rain now and then when there was a break in the clouds. The glow was ominous and cold and gave the shadows the illusion of movement. A rumble of thunder in the distance made Ruby jump, hand shooting out from her blanket in search of her weapon, only to settle a moment later.

"Calm down," she said. Leaning back against the tree's gnarled trunk, she closed her eyes and strove to do just that.

Her thoughts turned briefly to the rider in black, and a stab of fear gripped her heart. Giving herself a small shake, she put the image out of her mind. Whatever it had been, it hadn't bothered with her. She was alive and decently safe and making good time. She focused instead on what she could hear in the present moment: the hiss of her fire, the torrents of rain, the low hoot of an owl somewhere in the darkness.

As she listened to the calm of the Shire's borders, something new reached her ears, and she opened her eyes. Out of the gloom came a voice. Softly it floated over the din of the pelting rain, in a melody both haunting and reverent. Ruby sat straighter, fingers brushing the wet barrel of Crescent Rose, but not with the sudden fear that had overcome her earlier. Curious, she set her compacted weapon on her belt and got to her feet.

The singing grew closer, and she moved to the very edge of the tree's cover. She could see nothing; not even the sopping grass a mere five feet in front of her. Even so, she stood and listened. It wasn't one voice, she realized, but many; a clear, beautiful chorus, in a language she didn't recognize.

Slowly, a gentle silver light filtered into view, cutting through the torrential downpour. And then she saw them. A procession of people crossing the Brandywine Bridge, bathed in an ethereal glow that rivaled that of the moon. They carried no lights that Ruby could see, but she could make them out clearly nonetheless.

 _Elves_ , she realized, eyes widening in awestruck wonder as a tingle of warmth passed from her feet to her shoulders. Bilbo had spoken of them often, but his descriptions hadn't come close to doing them justice. With the shimmering raindrops caught in their hair and a faint sorrow in their eyes, Ruby felt that this was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, or would see again. It seemed to her that they were the stars themselves.

They passed - some on foot, others bearing banners, and others yet on horseback - unhurriedly on the road, completely unbothered by the rain. A few took notice of her and raised their hands in silent greeting, which Ruby mirrored in a sort of dream-like daze. She remembered then a passage from a book, among many, she had read in BagEnd. She knew where they were going. The Grey Havens. They were heading for the harbor beyond the Tower Hills, to leave Middle-earth.

Watching them, she felt inexplicably sad; their steps seemed so heavy and final, though their journey was far from over. They had miles to go before passing through the White Downs, and if _she_ felt tired, she could only imagine how difficult such a long journey was.

" _Márienna_ ," she called quietly. The last faced her, and Ruby started in surprise. She hadn't thought she'd be heard. The elf, however, simply smiled and she immediately felt comforted.

" _No in elenath hílar nan hâd gîn,_ " they said.

Bewildered, she smiled back though, silhouetted against the fire behind her, she wasn't sure if it was seen. Before she could say anything more, the elf had turned, and the group continued off down the road, steadily disappearing from view. Their voices, however, carried as they had before, and as Ruby sat back down at her fire, she could scarcely remember her fear, or the rider she had encountered that morning.

Laying down to sleep that night, all she dreamed of was an envoy of starlight and the sweet songs of a people whose time was ending.

* * *

 **A/N:** _I decided to stray a little closer to Tolkien in this chapter, in that Frodo was taught by Bilbo a bit of Elvish. Spending six months or so in the Shire with them, I thought it apt that Ruby know a word or two._

 _While_ 'namárië' _is the more traditional farewell,_ 'márienna' _translates to - 'farwell, lit. towards what is good'. Given Ruby's nature, I liked it a bit better._

 _The response she receives translates to 'may all stars shine on your path'._


	15. AUTHOR'S NOTICE

Hello, dear readers!

No, this isn't a proper update. I'd like to sincerely apologize to all of you for the long wait, and inform you that, unfortunately, it's going to be a bit longer before I update again. Without getting into too many specifics, I've hit a rather tough bought of writer's block in regards to this fic. Along with working on getting into University, the updates I had hoped to make on a regular basis wound up being pushed back.

I can promise that a new set of chapters (yes, more than one) will be up before the end of April. From there, I hope to be able to keep updating regularly (ie, weekly or bi-weekly) until the start of classes in September.

I thank you all for your patience and continued support of this crazy endeavor. It truly does mean the world to me.

Until next time,  
Sarah


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